The Message
by GodIHopeNot
Summary: The New York Institute gang get a message from the angels that some Mundie somewhere had documented their lives and thoughts into a best seller series. The Angels want them to go through all the damage and see how bad it is. That means reading all the stories and going through all the websites that even mention the books.
1. Chapter 1

**A.N. So this story got deleted for some reason so I am reposting it**

 **Disclaimer: Anything that is publicly recognized is not mine. It all belongs to the fabulous Cassandra Clare. I only own the plot of this story**

It all started on a sunny day. It was way too hot and humid to go outside, so the residents of the New York Institute had decided to stick inside, hanging out in the entertainment room. Izzy was sitting on the far couch, painting her toenails. Simon was sitting next to her, reading from his codex (hoping to finally catch up to the rest of the Shadowhunters, or at least Clary). Magnus was sitting on the ottoman going through the latest vogue magazine, trying to figure out if orange is the new black. Jace and Ale were sitting in front of the huge flat screen t.v., furiously smashing the buttons of the Xbox controllers in their hands, trying to kill each other on their game. Clary was sitting (Rather reluctantly) on Jace's lap, while drawing. She was headed for the other couch but Jace had snagged her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap. She had given up the struggle when he wrapped his arms around her, with the controller in his hands, resting in her lap. The room was silent except for the scratch of Clary's pencil the flipping of the pages in Magnus's magazine, and the occasion blast from the t.v., followed but the curse word from whatever boy got killed.

Clary yawned and shifted in Jace's lap. In response Jace rested his chin on her head. Clary gritted her teeth. "Can you not?" she snapped out.

Jace just chuckled. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"Yes!" Clary nearly shouted.

Jace chuckled again, but removed his head. He hit some button on the controller and Alec let out a curse. Jace smirked, and while he waited for Alec to set up the game again, looked down at Clary's drawing. It was of some girl with a pair of the bigger, bulkier headphones on. The girl's eyes looked to be filled with pain and her wrists (which were in a prayer position in front of her) had small cuts on them. On the top, in some kind of fancy writing where the words 'Everybody wants to be with me, but I got all I need to feel invincible with my head phones on.' Jace was astonished yet again at the sheer talent that Clary had. He felt like he could actually feel the pain the girl was in. All Jace wanted to do was figure out why the girl was in such pain and help her with it. He wondered where Clary found the quote from, or if she just made it up.

While Jace was distracted, Alec took the chance to get back at him. He grinned as he started to repeatedly hit a button that caused his avatar's gun to be fired.

The sound of gunfire caused Jace to look up from the drawing just in time to see his avatar fall to the ground dead. Jace immediately hunted Alec's guy down to retaliate, after his guy got lives back.

The boys were so focused that they didn't notice the portal forming behind them. Clary was just as focused on her drawing that she didn't notice it either. But Izzy and Simon did, and they both looked up just in time to see the portal fully for. Magnus, feeling the surge of power looked up as well and twisted around in his seat so that he could get a betted look. A plucked within an inch of its life eyebrow rose as he saw a shape form. "You guys might want to see this," he said to the thee sitting up front.

All three of them raised their heads to see the portal look like it exploded in flames, and to have a delicate piece of paper float out of it. Everyone's eyes followed the paper float out of it. Everyone's eyes followed the paper till it landed on the coffee tale sitting in the middle of the awkward circle everyone sat in. The second the paper touched the wood, the portal flashed brighter and the sputter out, leaving a scorch mark on the wall behind it. Alec seemed like the only willing one to get up and get a closer look. (Jace tried to justify the fact that he didn't get up as well by telling himself that he had Clary sitting in his lap and it would be rude to make her move.) Alec slowly reached out a hand ad snatched up the piece of paper. His eyes scanned it and then both oh his eyebrows rose in surprise. "Holy Crap. It's a note from Raziel."

A stretch of silence followed until Izzy broke it. "Well! Just don't stand there! Tell us what it says!" She said in an annoyed tone.

Alec cleared his throat and started to read. "Um it says, 'Dear Clary, Jace, Alexander, Isabelle, Magnus and the mundane. IT has come to the Angels attention that some mundane somewhere has thoroughly documented you lives and thought into a best seller book series. Then into a movie, as well as soon to be t.v. show. We have sent you the books and the movie, and a couple of websites about you. We want you to read all the information on them, then report back to us in two months' time how bad the damage is and how much the mundanes know about the shadow world. Best of luck and keep hidden, Raziel and his Angels."

The second Alec finished reading the note, a second portal opened just like the first, but this time a cardboard box came flying out. It went flipping through the air and finally came to a stop by smashing into Simon's face, knocking him off the couch in the process. Jace snickered at the sight of the nerd sprawled out on the ground as Clary sighed. Alec went to pick up the box, while Izzy helped Simon back up onto the couch.

"Well, wouldn't you know? The gods actually have good taste!" Jace commented. He then turned to Clary and added, "Even they think that Simon shouldn't be a Shadowhunter."

Clary sighed. "Jace, I think that you are focusing on the wrong thing here. The more important fact is that there are books somewhere out there that has every little thing about us in them Everything Jace!" Jace frowned at that, and then turned to Izzy who had started to open up the box.

"Clary's right. We need to find those books and get rid of them…"  
She all of a sudden stopped right in the middle of her sentence. "I take that back. Not out there somewhere. Right here!"

Everyone let out sounds of astonishment and went to inspect the books. Sure enough there were six sets of six books. All wrapped up in separate packaging. Izzy started to hand out the books till everyone had a set. Simultaneously they all ripped off the plastic and got an eyeful of the first book.

Simon was the first one to speak. "Um, why am I starring at a naked dude's chest?"

"Not just any naked chest," Clary added. "That's Jace."

Izzy raised an eyebrow at that. "Really? You recognized Jace by just looking at the chest?"

Clary blushed a deep red, as Jace burst out in laughter. "Well I don't blame her. My chest in amazingly sexy. And she does spend an awful lot of time starring at it." He laughed even more as Clary blushed an even deeper red.

"I didn't identify him from his chest!" She huffed. "I saw the blonde hair, and since he is the only blonde here, I automatically assumed it was him!" but nobody listened to her. They were all still laughing at her embarrassment. "Whatever." She grumbled.

Once everyone calmed down, Magnus started to talk. "I think that it is safe to assume that we don't need to read these, as they are out lives. We already know what happens."

"Yeah but they Angel Raziel says that we need to read them." Alec said with a frown.

"how 'bout we read them separately, by ourselves and focus on the other things. Ike the movie and the websites." Clary added helpfully and everybody agreed with her. Magnus hooked a finger in the corner of the box and dragged it towards him on the table. He looked inside and whistled.

"There are two laptops, a tables, and IPod, and three smart phones in here." He started to pull everything out and set them on the table.

Simoon gasped and said, "Those are high grade stuff too. Like really high grad. As in the-military-doesn't-even-have-these-yet high grade."

Clary was the first one to grab an electronic. She turned the IPod on and waited for it to load. When it was ready she noticed it was locked. "It's locked."

Jace looked over her shoulder and examined it. "Try Raziel." He said. Clary typed it in, but it was incorrect. She shook her head, and Jace looked one more time. "How about 'Jonathon Shadowhunter'" Clary typed the name in and the gadget accepted it. She instantly pressed the icon for the internet looking to type the address that was on the note. She noticed that a few were already bookmarked. She clicked on one then frowned. She looked up at Jace who had moved behind her. He grabbed the phone from her, with a surprised look on his face.

"Coming soon in one year. The last hour series. A sequel to the best seller series, The Infernal Devices. As most fans remember, The Infernal Devices deal with the ancestors of our favorite heroes Jace Herondale, Clary Fray, Simon Lewis, Isabelle and Alec Lightwood and finally by not least Magnus Bane. The series was set bout 195 years before the epic love adventure of the heroes. The Infernal Devices were about the harrowing tale of William Herondale, Tessa Gray and James Carstairs. It follows them as they fight they mighty Infernal Army the wicked Magister. It was also an amazing love tale of Tessa Gray finding out who she was and deciding between the handsome and troubled Will and the kind dying Jem. _The last hours_ series follows the children of William Herondale (the head of the London Institute) and his immortal wife Tessa Herondale. Follow them as they begin their adventure in Chain of Thorns."

Everyone was stunned into silence. That is until Magnus spoke up. "Oh. My. God. Our lives are just some glorified love story?! This is the coolest thing that ever happened to me!"

Everyone else just started to freak out. Jace tried to get everyone to calm, down but nobody was listening to him. He sighed and rolled his eyes upward. Jace brought his fingers up to his mouth and whistled loud enough for the people in Idris to hear him. When everyone was quiet again he started to talk. "ok. There is no need to freak out over this. Everyone can just calm down. We will start with this investigation with watching to movie tonight. Then tomorrow everyone will start with reading the books, and after that we will check out this other website." Jace looked at the IPod he took from Clary to get the name of the other website. "This fanfiction website."

Everyone agreed with him then started to set up to watch the movie. Alec started to switch the t.v. from the game set to the DVD player., Magnus conjured up all the things that they would need to sit on or use. Such as more beanbag chairs and some super comfy blankets. He also got a surround sound system for the t.v. so that it would be like in a move theater. Simon went to hand out all the electronics so that everyone had one, while Izzy picked up all the books and put them in a pile for tomorrow. Jace went to unwrap the new movie and put it in and Clary made some drinks and popcorn for everyone.

Once everyone was finished and had curled up with their respective partners on the beanbag chairs or couches night had already fallen. Jace picked up the remote and punched play on the screen to start the movie.

When the movie was over, everyone was tired and ready to head off to bed. Clary had fallen asleep shortly after fake Jace, Clary, Alec, and Izzy went to save Simon. The movie had actually disappointed Jace. The fake Jace wasn't as good looking as the real one. Or at least that was what Jace had thought. Everyone else thought he was just as good looking. But the big problem he had was the fact that the events all got switched around, other events were added, while some were deleted. The scene that was supposed to be at Renwick's was at the Institute. And it was completely impossible for demons to invade the Institute. Also the fact that it showed that Clary managed to slip the mortal cup back into the card was a total fake. The last two things are the fact that Clary's mom was never kept at the Institute, and Clary never showed her signs of rune power that early.

Jace turned off the t.v. and picked Clary up to take to their room. Ever since the wedding with Luke and Jocelyn Clary had been staying with Jace. Her mom didn't want her to be alone, and had finally started to trust Jace. Although she didn't agree to Clary sharing a bed with him at first. She fought till she was blue in the face, saying that she didn't want her 17-year-old daughter to be living with her boyfriend. Clary's mom kept saying that she wasn't even an adult yet, and she didn't want her baby girl to end up pregnant then find out that she doesn't even love Jace. That was until clary threw the fact that Jace and Clary had already went at it in the demon realms, and in Shadowhunter belief, Clary was already and Adult. Clary then had added the fact that she was nowhere near ready to have kids and neither was Jace. He mother then reluctantly agreed to it. The fact that Izzy had said that Clary would probably have snuck into Jace's room anyway helped swayed her.

Jae laid Clary in the bed, gently shook her awake and told her she could go back to sleep as soon as she got dressed in some sleep wear. Clary sluggishly got out of the bed and dragged off her clothes, only to pull one of his t-shirts. Jace chuckled and got into the shower. After words he went into the bed and pulled Clary back into him. He buried his head into her hair, and sighed. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N. Hey guys! I got a lot of great feedback from the first chapter so here is the second one. Please enjoy and leave a review. Let me know what you thought of it.**

 **Disclaimer: All publically recognized characters are not mine and belong to the genius that is Cassandra Clare.**

Jace woke up the next morning with a mouthful of red hair. Sometime during the night Clary had rolled from her position of curled up into Jace's side to lying on his chest. Not that he could complain. Clary was adorable when she slept. Her brow would be furrowed and occasionally her nose would twitch. She would mumble, shift a little, then her hand, which was curled up next to his left peck, would tighten then loosen. It was the cutest thing that Jace had seen for the longest time. The only other person that Jace knew of that was this cute when asleep was Max. Jace felt a sharp stab of pain at his heart at the thought of the youngest lightwood. No matter how much time had passed, Jace would still and forever miss him. Jace wrapped his arm around Clary's waist and pulled her tighter to him. He buried his head back into her hair, and breathed deeply. He always loved the smell that Clary had. She smelt like a forest after it rained, or maybe a field of flowers. Jace thought that a year or so ago, he would have hated that smell. He would have hated to cuddle with someone. But ever since he had met Clary, she changed his whole world. She helped him realize that he was walking around with blinds over his eyes. Clary had taken Jace's hand and led him to the light, and helped him see the world anew. He would never be able to thank her enough for that. If it weren't for Clary, Jace would probably be lying in a pool of his own blood by now.

Jace was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Clary was starting to wake up. "Jace?" She asked, while rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "Are you ok? You look like you're a thousand miles away."

Jace just gazed down at her. Clary was started to get worried. She started to lift her hand to feel his forehead for a fever, but Jace caught it midway. He twined her fingers together with his, and kissed her knuckles. "Thank you."

He had said it so quietly that Clary barely caught it. "For what?" She asked, confused.

He smiled down at her. It was Clary's favorite smile, the one that showed what he was really like, beneath all that armor he had kept up for so long. "For being you." He answered.

Clary just smiled, rolled over and checked the time on her phone. She cringed when she was that it was eight. "We should probably be getting up by now. Don't want Izzy to send another search party for us."

Jace let out a chuckle as her remember the last time they had woken up late. Jace, who is usually up between 5:30 and 6, had slept in till 8:30 that day. Izzy had gotten up early that day, and when she didn't see her blonde and annoying brother, she had assumed the worse. She had come barreling into Jace and Clary's room, screaming "Are you Okay?!" over and over again. Jace and Clary had jumped up at the noise, causing the blanket to slide down to their waist. They were still naked from the previous night's activities, and Izzy got an eyeful of a shirtless Clary. For the next two days, the two females couldn't look each other in the eye without blushing like mad. Jace on the other hand, had found it hilarious. He didn't stop teasing Izzy and Clary for the next two weeks.

Jace chuckled one more time at the memory of Izzy's face as he rolled out of bed. He stretched his arms up to the ceiling, trying to get rid of all the cracks out of his back. He didn't miss the hooded look Clary gave him as she eyed his naked torso. He smirked, "Like what you see?" he teased. Clary just blushed bright red and ducked into the bathroom. Jace let out a breathy laugh and got dressed into a pair of black pants and a tight fitting black shirt. Clary had always picked on him for wearing nothing but black, and he always responded by saying black was what he looked best in. Jace cocked his head to the side to check if the shower was still running in the bathroom. Once he confirmed that it was, he pulled his phone and the set of books. He set up his favorite playlist on his phone, and plugged in some headphones. He checked out the back of the book for the summary. Jace laughed when he realized that it would be all about Clary. She would _love_ that, he thought with sarcasm. He cracked open to the first page and started to read.

 _"You've got to be kidding me," the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up jacket and shook his shaved head. "You can't bring that thing in here."_

 _The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement._

 _"Aw, come on." The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. "It's part of my costume."_

 _The bouncer raised an eyebrow. "Which is what?"_

 _The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. "I'm a vampire slayer." He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. "It's fake. Foam rubber. See?"_

 _The boy's wide eyes were way too bright a green, Clary noticed: the color of antifreeze, spring grass. Colored contact lenses, probably. The bouncer shrugged, abruptly bored._

 _"Whatever. Go on in."_

 _The boy slid past him, quick as an eel. Clary liked the lilt to his shoulders, the way he tossed his hair as he went. There was a word for him that her mother would have used -_ _insouciant_ _._

 _"You thought he was cute," said Simon, sounding resigned. "Didn't you?"_

 _Clary dug her elbow into his ribs, but didn't answer._

 _Inside, the club was full of dry-ice smoke. Colored lights played over the dance floor, turning it into a multicolored fairyland of blues and acid greens, hot pinks and golds._

 _The boy in the red jacket stroked the long razor-sharp blade in his hands, an idle smile playing over his lips. It had been so easy - a little bit of a glamour on the blade, to make it look harmless. Another glamour on his eyes, and the moment the bouncer had looked straight at him, he was in. Of course, he could probably have gotten by without all that trouble, but it was part of the fun - fooling the mundies, doing it all out in the open right in front of them, getting off on the blank looks on their sheeplike faces._

 _Not that the humans didn't have their uses. The boy's green eyes scanned the dance floor, where slender limbs clad in scraps of silk and black leather appeared and disappeared inside the revolving columns of smoke as the mundies danced._

 _Girls tossed their long hair, boys swung their leather-clad hips, and bare skin glittered with sweat. Vitality just_ _poured_ _off them, waves of energy that filled him with a drunken dizziness. His lip curled. They didn't know how lucky they were. They didn't know what it was like to eke out life in a dead world, where the sun hung limp in the sky like a burned cinder. Their lives burned as brightly as candle flames - and were as easy to snuff out._

 _His hand tightened on the blade he carried, and he had begun to step out onto the dance floor when a girl broke away from the mass of dancers and began walking toward him._

 _He stared at her. She was beautiful, for a human - long hair nearly the precise color of black ink, charcoaled eyes. Floor-length white gown, the kind women used to wear when this world was younger. Lace sleeves belled out around her slim arms. Around her neck was a thick silver chain, on which hung a dark red pendant the size of a baby's fist. He only had to narrow his eyes to know that it was real - real and precious. His mouth started to water as she neared him. Vital energy pulsed from her like blood from an open wound. She smiled, passing him, beckoning with her eyes. He turned to follow her, tasting the phantom sizzle of her death on his lips._

 _It was always easy. He could already feel the power of her evaporating life coursing through his veins like fire. Humans were so_ _stupid_ _. They had something so precious, and they barely safeguarded it at all. They threw away their lives for money, for packets of powder, for a stranger's charming smile. The girl was a pale ghost retreating through the colored smoke. She reached the wall and turned, bunching her skirt up in her hands, lifting it as she grinned at him. Under the skirt, she was wearing thigh-high boots._

 _He sauntered up to her, his skin prickling with her nearness. Up close she wasn't so perfect. He could see the mascara smudged under her eyes, the sweat sticking her hair to her neck._

 _He could smell her mortality, the sweet rot of corruption._

 _Got you,_ _he thought._

 _A cool smile curled her lips. She moved to the side, and he could see that she was leaning against a closed door._ _NO ADMITTANCE - STORAGE_ _was scrawled across it in red paint. She reached behind her for the knob, turned it, slid inside. He caught a glimpse of stacked boxes, tangled wiring. A storage room. He glanced behind him - no one was looking. So much the better if she wanted privacy._

 _He slipped into the room afte_ _r her, unaware that he was being followed._

Jace was so engrossed in the book that he didn't notice Clary come out of the bathroom. She rubbed her hair with the towel while giving Jace a funny look. She rarely saw him read, and when she did, it was always that _Tale of Two Cities_ book that came from his real father. She peeked at the cover of the books currently resting in his hands, and then rolled her eyes at the cover. Good to see him getting ahead of today's events. She tried calling his name but he didn't react. IT was then she noticed the headphones jammed into his ears. Clary rolled her eyes and then eyed her wet, dirty towel sitting on the floor. Jace wouldn't really wouldn't like it if she left it there, with his OCD and such. Clary smiled mischievously and picked it up. She was doing him a favor after all. She wasn't leaving his room a mess, and at the same time she was gaining his attention. It was a win-win situation. She lobbed the towel at Jace and then laughed as the towel made a wet sound as it smashed into his face.

Jace jerked and glared at the offending object that just smacked his face. He looked to the left and saw Clary bent at the waist, while laughing so hard, there were tears streaming down her face. He picked up one of the books in the pile beside him and chucked it back at her. It hit Clary's arm with a thud and fell to the floor, with its pages spread out like the book was trying to do the splits. Jace grinned when Clary stopped laughing to glare at him, then the book while rubbing her arm.

Clary walked over to him and sat beside him on the bed. She peered over his shoulder and asked, "So is it any good so far?"

Jace shrugged, "Yeah, I think so. It started off in Pandemonium, so I assume this is where you, ever so rudely, barge in on our hunt and meet us for the first time."

Clary rolled her eyes, looked at a passage and read out loud. " _The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all-ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement._

 _"Aw, come on." The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. "It's part of my costume."_

 _The bouncer raised an eyebrow. "Which is what?"_

 _The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tendrils of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. "I'm a vampire slayer." He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. "It's fake. Foam rubber. See?"_

 _The boy's wide eyes were way too bright a green, Clary noticed: the color of antifreeze, spring grass. Colored contact lenses, probably. The bouncer shrugged, abruptly bored._

 _"Whatever. Go on in."_

 _The boy slid past him, quick as an eel. Clary liked the lilt to his shoulders, the way he tossed his hair as he went. There was a word for him that her mother would have used -_ _insouciant_ _._

 _"You thought he was cute," said Simon, sounding resigned. "Didn't you?"_

 _Clary dug her elbow into his ribs, but didn't answer._ " She paused for a second and frowned. "It is unbelievably creepy to read about yourself in third person like that."

Jace laughed at her but then a thought triggered in his head. "Wait a second! You thought that a demon was cute!" He looked outraged. "How could you think that he looks cute?! He's a DEMON! A nasty crawling creature that doesn't even belong in this dimension! Not to mention the fact that he eats human souls to live!"

Clary rolled her eyes at his outburst. She grabbed his face between both of her hands, and kissed him. When she pulled away she spoke. "That was before I met you. You ruined every guy for me forever."

"Dam right I did! You shouldn't be even looking at other guys anymore! Not when you have this hot stuff right here!" To anyone who didn't know him, they would have thought that he was enrage, but Clary knew better. She could see the humor beneath all of the fake anger. She smiled peck him on the lips once more then hopped off the bed.

"Come on, let's go get some food. I have a weird craving for some coconut pancakes." Jace just smiled and followed her out of the room and down the hallway.

They found the rest of the gang in the kitchen, fighting over what to eat. From what Jace could understand, Izzy wanted to make breakfast, and everyone else was trying to convince her not to.

Clary laughed at it and waltzed right in. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually they were able to convince everyone that Taki's was the fix everyone need. Then after an hour of everyone yelling at Izzy that she looks fine to go out, the made it to the restaurant. They all piled into their regular booth and greeted Kaelie, who took all their orders with a friendly smile. It was good, Clary thought, that she didn't have any hostility left over from the war. That would have been awkward.

"So has anyone started the books yet?" Izzy asked while inspecting her perfectly painted nails.

"Jace has." Clary said, gesturing at said boy. He looked up from his phone where he was checking out his facebook and nodded. (Clary had finally updated him on all the electronic things from the mundane world, and Jace hasn't left it alone since.) He didn't elaborate though, just flung an arm over the back of booth behind Clary, and looked back at his phone. Clary peeked over his shoulder and watched him as he scrolled through his newsfeed.

"Don't tell us or anything?" Simon said with a scowl on his face. "Because we are obviously not interested." Clary didn't think that he could pack anymore sarcasm in the sentence if he tried.

Jace looked up from his phone one more time and glared at the annoying boy who was sitting next to his sister. "Shut up mundie." He snarled. He may have some respect for him; with all that he had done to help him in the past, but that doesn't mean he had to show it. The brunette boy is dogging after his sister and had, previously, been in love with his girlfriend. And in his book that means Jace was supposed to hate him, obviously.

Izzy gave him and glare and looked to be about to retort with some comeback in defense of her current boy toy, but Alec cut in. "Just tell us Jace."

Jace sighed overdramatically, and acted as if it was some great pain to let them know what he thought of it. "It was okay. It starts off shortly before we meet Clary at the Pandemonium. And my guess it's going to be all about Clary, with the side of us, so good luck with that Izzy." He said the last part in Izzy's direction. She scowled at the fact that she wasn't going to be the most important person in the story. She was used to being the center of attention, but appears that it wouldn't be the case this time. _Oh well,_ she thought. _Clary is the heroine in this story, that's easy to tell._ Izzy looked at Clary to see that the red head is blushing. Izzy snickered at the poor girl's uncomfortable-ness. Magnus, who had snuck in earlier without anybody noticing, laughed straight out at her, his arm slipping form Alec's shoulders where it was resting.

"Either way, we all need to read those books as soon as we can, so that we can move on to the other things, like the websites," Alec said. "We need to get that report back to the Angels right away."

Every one nodded, agreeing with him. "We should get as much of the books as possible done today," Izzy said. "So that means doing nothing but reading today." Izzy added while sending pointed looks to Jace, Clary, and Magnus. The three of them were known to be either distracted or being the distracter. They all nodded in agreement.

Simon sat up and said, "I think that it would be easier to read the books separate, and all by ourselves. It should go much faster that way."

"Good idea, Simone." Magnus said, while nodding.

"It's Simon." Simon retorted with a glare, but Magnus continued on as if he said nothing at all.

"Me and Alec will go to my apartment to 'read'" Magnus added quotation marks with his fingers when he said read. "So no one disturb us." Alec blushed when Magnus threw his arm around his waist and planted a big kiss on his cheek.

"Oh no!" Jace said agitated. "If me and Clary can't have sex today neither can you guys!" Clary blushed and slouched even deeper in the seat.

"Oh no, we can," Magnus answered with a grin. "You see since we will be at my house we don't have to worry about anyone telling us not to!"

Jace sputtered in outrage, withdrew his arm form the back of the booth and leaned forward. "No you can't because it's not fair and because you guys need to read the books too!" Jace gestured at Alec. "Alec, tell Magnus that you guys can't have sex!"

Alec just blushed even more and mumbled something under his breath.

"Neither of you four are going to do anything but read those stupid books today!" Izzy nearly shouted, and threw her hands up in outrage. "We NEED to finish these books, so that means giving up all your extracurricular activities until we finish them! Do you understand me?!"

Jace and Magnus just glared at each other, until Izzy slammed her hands down on the table, gaining the attention of half the restaurant. "I said do. You. Understand?!" Both boys nodded hastily while Simon laughed in the background.

Kaelie came by at that time to give them their food and drinks and ask Magnus if he wants anything. He shook his head, too scared to say anything. Everyone dug in, distracted for the time being.

While they were eating, they would exchange some conversation, but nobody was really paying attention, they were all so focused on what they had to do today and the, very, delicious food in front of them.

When they were all done, they headed back to their respected places to read the dreaded books. Clary and Jace disappeared into their room while Izzy and Simon went to the entertainment room. Magnus and Alec went to Alec's room, they were going to Magnus's house, but Jace started to whine. Izzy, not wanting to deal with him, said that they had to stay at the institute so that she could make sure they read all day.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own the mortal instruments, just playing around with the characters a little bit.**

 **A.N.: I really don't have an excuse for why I didn't update in forever. I, honestly forgot about it. And for that I am truly sorry. I hope this makes up for it a bit.**

Clary slumped down in the bed with a heavy sigh. She was not looking forward to reading those stupid books. She already lived threw them all, why did she have to read them? It was stupid and unnecessary. And then there was the added bonus of the fact that it seems that the whole book seems to be in her point of view. Clary just knew that this was going to be excruciatingly embarrassing for her.

A horrible thought occurred to her, and she shot straight up in the bed. She ended up startling Jace who was busy putting away his and hers coats in the closet.

"What is it?" he asked worriedly. In response, clary reached for her set of books underneath the bed where she shoved them before she had left. She pulled out a random book and started to frantically search through it, almost ripping some of the pages. She stopped randomly at one and hurriedly started reading.

 _Jace was somewhat surprised to discover that Sebastian had left the Verlac horse in the stables rather than galloping away on it the night he fled. Perhaps he had been afraid that Wayfarer might in some manner be tracked._

Clary breathed a sigh of relief. It seems that the entire series isn't in just her point of view.

"Ah, clary?" Jace asked again. "What's wrong?"

Clary threw a small smile his way that seemed to relax him a little. "Nothing." She responded. _Just worried that my every thought and feeling would be spilled out for everyone to read._

Jace gave her a dubious look, but didn't say anything further. He flopped down on the bed next to her and grabbed the first book. "So how do you want to do this?" He asked, glaring at the book. He mumbled something under his breath about Izzy, homework, and a few naughty words that Clary's mother would have washed her mouth out with soap if she ever heard her say them.

Clary let out a snort and grabbed the book from Jace's hands. "It's not rocket science, Jace." She flipped the book open to the first page. "That is unless, you don't know how to read!" Clary mocked gasped in horror. "That would explain so much!" She let out a giggle at the glare Jace sent her way.

He grabbed the book back and leaned back against the pillows. "Yes I know how to read! I just didn't know if you wanted to read together or by ourselves."

Clary frowned and leaned back against the pillows and curled up next to Jace. She grabbed to book he was reading before (seeing as he stole her book), and flipped open to the first page. "Why don't we read together, but take turns. This is going to last a long time and we don't need anyone losing their voice."

Jace sent a grin down to her. "You just want to listen to my sexy voice, don't you?"

Clary snorted and snuggled deeper into Jace's side, throwing his book back over the side of the bed. "You read the first chapter and I'll take over for the second chapter.

Jace wrapped an arm around Clary's waist. "You got it, babe." He started reading.

" _You've got to be kidding me," the bouncer said, folding his arms across his massive chest. He stared down at the boy in the red zip-up Jacket and shook his shaved head. "You can't bring that thing in here."_

 _The fifty or so teenagers in line outside the Pandemonium Club leaned forward to eavesdrop. It was a long wait to get into the all -ages club, especially on a Sunday, and not much generally happened in line. The bouncers were fierce and would come down instantly on anyone who looked like they were going to start trouble. Fifteen-year-old Clary Fray, standing in line with her best friend, Simon, leaned forward along with everyone else, hoping for some excitement._

" _Aw, come on." The kid hoisted the thing up over his head. It looked like a wooden beam, pointed at one end. "It's part of my costume."_

 _The bouncer raised an eyebrow. "Which is what?"_

 _The boy grinned. He was normal-enough-looking, Clary thought, for Pandemonium. He had electric blue dyed hair that stuck up around his head like the tentacles of a startled octopus, but no elaborate facial tattoos or big metal bars through his ears or lips. "I'm a vampire hunter." He pushed down on the wooden thing. It bent as easily as a blade of grass bending sideways. "It's fake. Foam rubber. See?"_

 _The boy's wide eyes were way too bright a green, Clary noticed: the color of antifreeze, spring grass. Colored contact lenses, probably. The bouncer shrugged, abruptly bored. "Whatever. Go on in."_

 _The boy slid past him, quick as an eel. Clary liked the lilt to his shoulders, the way he tossed his hair as he went. There was a word for him that her mother would have used –_ insouciant.

" _You thought he was cute," said Simon, sounding resigned. "Didn't you?" Clary dug her elbow into his ribs, but didn't answer._

Jace stopped and looked down at Clary. "You thought a _demon_ was cute?!"

Clary shrugged her shoulders. "That was before I knew he was a demon. If I had known what he was, then I wouldn't have. Besides, aren't those demons purposely design to drag in their victims by their good looks? So therefore, I was totally in the right there!"

Jace just scowled and looked back at the book. Too prideful to admit that Clary was, actually, right. But at the same time he was kind of proud of her for remember that from the codex.

 _Inside, the club was full of dry-ice smoke. Colored lights played over the dance floor, turning it into a multicolored fairyland of blues and acid greens, hot pinks and golds._

 _The boy in the red jacket stroked the long razor-sharp blade in his hands, an idle smile playing over his lips. It had been so easy - a little bit of a glamour on the blade, to make it look harmless. Another glamour on his eyes and the moment the bouncer had looked straight at him, he was in._

Jace frowned at the book. "Is this in the demons point of view?" he half asked to himself. He was a little startled when Clary answered for him.

"Yeah, I think it is." She said, a little surprised. "I wondered why the author did that?"

"I don't know." Jace answered. He pondered it for a moment, but when he couldn't come up with a reason why, he just shrugged his shoulders. "Oh well." He started reading again.

 _Of course, he could probably have gotten by without all that trouble, but it was part of the fun – fooling the mundies, doing it all out in the open right in front of them, getting off on the blank looks on their sheep like faces._

 _Not that humans didn't have their uses. The boy's green eyes scanned the dance floor, where slender limbs clad in scraps of silk and black leather appeared and disappeared inside the revolving columns of smoke as the mundies danced. Girls tossed their long hair, boys sung their leather-clad hips, and bare skin glittered with sweat. Vitality just_ poured _off them, waves of energy that filled him with a drunken dizziness. His lip curled. They didn't know how lucky they were. They didn't know what it was like to eke out life in a dead world, where the sun hung limp in the sky like a burned cinder. Their lives burned as brightly as candle flames – and were as easy to snuff out._

Jace was kind of freaked out reading this passage. Was that really how the demons thought of humans? That's kind of disturbing, actually.

Noticing that Jace stopped reading, Clary looked up from her phone where she was playing Candy Crush. "Something wrong?" she asked.

Jace shook off his thoughts and sent a smile down to Clary. "No not really, just bugged by some-" He cut off when he looked down at Clary's phone. "Are you seriously playing candy crush?! While I'm reading to you? These book are important and need to be paid attention too!"

"I am paying attention to you!" Clary looked down with an almost guilty look on her face. "I just need something to do with my hands!"

Jace rolled his golden eyes. "Then draw or something!" A smile tugged on the corner of his lips. "You are distracting the reader! I'm sure there is a mundie law against that somewhere!"

Clary let loose a laugh. "It's no distracting the driver, Jace! Not the reader."

Jace rolled his eyes again (a habit he was sure that he picked up from Clary). "Whatever, same thing."

Clary laughed again and put down her phone, she grabbed her sketchbook from beside the bed and a well-worn pencil. "Happy?" she asked.

"Much," Jace said as he picked up the book again. "Now to get back to this dreadful book." Clary rolled her eyes and he started reading.

 _His hand tightened on the blade he carried, and he had begun to step out onto the dance floor when a girl broke away from the mass of dancers and began walking toward him. He stared at her. She was beautiful, for a human – long hair nearly the precise color of black ink, charcoaled eyes. Floor-length white gown, the kind women used to wear when this world was younger. Lace sleeves belle out around her slim arms. Around her neck was a thick silver chain, on which hung a dark red pendant the size of a baby's fist. He only had to narrow his eyes to know that it was real – real and precious. His mouth started to water as she neared him. Vital energy pulsed from her like blood from an open wound. She smiled, passing him, beckoning with her eyes. He turned to follow her, tasting the phantom sizzle of her death on his lips._

"Isn't that Izzy?" Clary asked warily.

"Yeah," bit out Jace. He kept on reading, though it sounded like it came out from clenched teeth.

 _It was always easy. He could already feel the power of her evaporation life coursing through his veins like fire. Humans were so stupid. They had something so precious, and they barely safe guarded it at all. They threw away their lives for money, for packets of powder, for a stranger's charming smile. The girl was a pale ghost retreating through the colored smoke. She reached the wall and turned, bunching her skirt up in her hands, lifting it as she grinned at him. Under the skirt, she was wearing thigh-high boots._

 _He sauntered up to her, his skin prickling with her nearness. Up close she wasn't so perfect: he could see the mascara smudged under her eyes, the swear sticking her hair to her neck. He could smell her mortality, the sweet rot of corruption._ Got you, _he thought._

 _A cool smile curled her lips. She moved to the side, and he could see that she was leaning against a closed door. NO ADMITTANCE – STORAGE was scrawled across it in red paint. She reached behind her for the knob, turning it, slid inside. He caught a glimpse of stacked boxes, tangled wiring. A storage room. He glanced behind him – no one was looking. So much the better if she wanted privacy._

 _He slipped into the room after her, unaware that he was being followed._

"Damn right he was being followed! Did her really think that she would go in alone?! She's a shadowhunter after all!"

"Jace," Clary sighed, looking up from of her sketch of the demon. "First of all he didn't know that she was a shadowhunter, and second of all, quit interrupting. Keep reading!"

"Alright, alright!" Jace said with a smile. It was cute when Clary got frustrated. He started up again.

" _So," Simon said, "pretty good music, eh?"_

 _Clary didn't reply._

"Yay, back to you point of view!" Jace said in a super happy voice.

"Shut up." Clary mumbled angrily. She still wasn't happy about the books being in her point of view.

 _They were dancing, or what passed for it – a lot of swaying back and forth with occasional lunges toward the floor as if one of them had dropped a contact lens – in a space between a group of teenage boys in metallic corsets, and a young Asian couple who were making out passionately, their colored hair extensions tangled together like vines._

Jace snorted at the attempting of dancing. "Remind me the next time we go out to a club to show you what real dancing looks like."

Clary didn't say anything just rolled her eyes and motioned for Jace to keep reading.

 _A boy with a lip piercing and a teddy bear backpack was handing out free tablets of herbal ecstasy, his parachute pants flapping in the breeze from the wind machine. Clary wasn't paying much attention to their immediate surroundings - her eyes were on the blue – haired boy who'd talked his way into the club. He was prowling through the crowd as if he were liking for something. There was something about the way he moved that reminded her of something…_

" _I, for one," Simon went on, "am enjoying myself immensely."_

 _This seemed unlikely. Simon, as always, stuck out at the club like a sore thumb, in jeans and an old T-shirt that said MADE IN BROOKLYN across the front. His freshly scrubbed hair was dark brown instead of green or pink, and his glasses perched crookedly on the end of his nose. He looked less as if he were contemplating the powers of darkness and more as if he were as if he were on his way to chess club._

" _Mmm-hmm." Clary knew perfectly well that he came to Pandemonium with her only because she liked it, that he thought it was boring. She wasn't even sure why it was that she liked it – the clothes, the music made it like a dream, someone else's life, not her boring real life at all. But she was always too shy to talk to anyone but Simon._

"Your right." Jace said. "It is weird to read this in your point of view."

"Try embarrassing." Clary said, still not comfortable with Jace knowing her thoughts. Even if, at this moment, it was only about her life and what she thought about it. They were her private thoughts and she didn't like anyone knowing them.

Thankfully Jace didn't linger too long on them and continued on reading.

 _The blue-haired boy was making his way off the dance floor. He looked a little lost as if he hadn't found whom he was looking for. Clary wondered what would happen if she went up and introduced herself—_

"BAD THINGS, THAT'S WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!" Jace thundered. "I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT IT!" He looked down at her incredulously.

"I DIDN'T KNOW THAT THEN!" Clary yelled back. Jace harrumphed and went back too reading.

 _-, offered to show him around. Maybe he'd just stare at her. Or maybe he was shy too. Maybe he'd be grateful and pleased, and try not to show it, the way boys did – but she's know. Maybe –_

 _The blue-haired boy straightened up suddenly, snapping to attention, like a hunting dog on point. Clary followed the like of his gaze, and saw the girl in the white dress._

Oh well, _Clary thought, trying not to feel like a deflated party balloon._ I guess that's that. _The girl was gorgeous, the kind of girl Clary would have liked to draw – tall and ribbon-slim, with long spill of black hair. Even at this distance Clary could see the red pendant around her throat. It pulsed under the lights of the dance floor like a separate, disembodied heart._

" _I feel," Simon went on, "that this evening DJ Bat is doing a singularly exceptional job. Don't you agree?"_

 _Clary rolled her eyes and didn't answer; Simon hated trance music. Her attention was on the girl in the white dress. Through the darkness, smoke, and artificial fog, her pale dress shone out like a beacon. No wonder the blue-haired was following her as if he were under a spell, too distracted to notice anything else around him – even the two dark shapes hard on his heels, weaving after him through the crowd._

 _Clary slowed her dancing and stared. She could just make out that the shapes were boys, tall and wearing black clothes. She couldn't have said how she knew that they were following the other boy, but she did. She could see it in the way they paced him, their careful watchfulness, the slinking grace of their movements. A small flower of apprehension began to open inside her chest._

"And the attraction begins!" Jace stated happily. He threw up a fist in the air as if making a celebratory punch.

"Jace, just read the book." Clary said, starting to feel frustrated.

" _Meanwhile," Simon added, "I wanted to tell you that lately I've been cross-dressing. Also, I'm sleeping with your mom. I thought you should know."_

"Hah! So he admits it! Simon _is_ a freak!"

"JACE! JUST. READ. THE. BOOK!"

"Yeah, yeah! No need to get your panties in a twist..." The resounding smack was clary was she took the book from Jace and hit him in the back of the head. Jace took the book back from her, grumbling, and stated to look for where he left off. He purposely took a little while to get back at Clary for the head smacking, but at the sound of the low growl coming from her, he hastily started reading again.

 _The girl had reached the wall, and was opening a door marked NO ADMITTANCE. She beckoned the blue-haired boy after her, and they slipped through the door. It wasn't anything Clary hadn't seen before, a couple sneaking off to the dark corners of the club to make out - but that made it even weirder that they were being followed._

"Still bugs me that a mundane was able to SEE us!" Jace mumbled. But at the look that clary was giving him, he didn't linger on that thought.

 _She raised herself up on tiptoe, trying to see over the crowd. The two guys had stopped at the door and seemed to be conferring with each other. One of them was blond, the other dark-haired. The blond one reached into his jacket and drew out something long and sharp that flashed under the strobing light. A knife. "Simon!" Clary shouted, and seized his arm._

"Ah yes, because SIMON would be able to do so much against me."

"Jace, I swear to god! If you don't stop interrupting the book every couple of sentences, I will break up with you!"

"Moving on then…"

" _What?" Simon looked alarmed, "I'm not really sleeping with you mom, you know. I was just trying to get you attention. Not that your mom isn't a very attractive woman, for her age."_

" _Do you see those guys?" She pointed wildly, almost hitting a curvy black girl who was dancing nearby. The girl shot her an evil look. "Sorry – Sorry!" Clary turned back to Simon. "Do you see those two guys over there? But that door?"_

 _Simon squinted, then shrugged. "I don't see anything."_

" _There are two of them. They were following the guy with the blue hair-"_

" _The one you thought was cute?"_

" _Yes, but that's not the point. The blond one pulled a knife."_

" _Are you sure?" Simon stared harder, shaking his head. "I still don't see anyone."_

" _I'm sure."_

 _Suddenly all business, Simon squared his shoulders. "I'll get one of the security guards. You stay her." He strode away, pushing through the crowd._

 _Clary turned just in time to see the blond boy slip through the NO ADMITTANCE door, his friend right on his heels. She looked around; Simon was still trying to shove his way across the dance floor, but he wasn't making much progress. Even if she yelled now, no one would hear her, and by the time Simon got back, something terrible might_ already _have happened. Biting hard on her lower lip, Clary started to wriggle through the crowd.'_

" _What's your name?"_

"Hmm," Jace hummed. "It appears we are back in the demons point of view."

"Fan – Freaking – tastic." Clary grumbled.

 _She turned and smiled. What faint light there was in the storage room spilled down through high barred windows smeared with dirt. Piles of electrical cables, along with broken bits of mirrored disco balls and discarded pain cans, littered the floor._

" _Isabelle."_

" _That's a nice name." He walked toward her, stepping carefully among the wires in case any of them were live. In the faint light she looked half-transparent, bleached of color, wrapped in while like an angel. It would be a pleasure to make her fall… "I haven't seen you here before."_

" _you're asking me if I come here often?" She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. There was some sort of bracelet around her wrist, just under the cuff of her dress – then, as he neared her, he saw that it wasn't a bracelet at all but a pattern linked into her kin, a matrix of swirling lines._

 _He froze. "You-"_

 _He didn't finish. She moved with lightning swiftness, striking out at him with her open hand, a blow to his chest that would have sent him down gasping if he'd been a human being. He staggered back, and now there was something in her hand, a coiling whip that glinted gold as she brought it down, curling around his ankles, herking him off his feet. He hit the ground, writhing, the hated metal biting deep into his skin. She laughed, standing over him, and dizzily he thought that he should have_ known. _No human girl would wear a dress like the one Isabelle wore. She'd worn it to cover her kin – all of her skin._

 _Isabelle yanked hard on the whip, securing it. Her smile glittered like poisonous water. "He's all yours, boys."_

 _A low laugh sounded behind him, and now there were hands on him, hauling him upright, throwing him against one of the concrete pillars. He could feel the damp stone under his back. His hands were pulled behind him, his wrists bound with wire. As he struggled, someone walked around the side of the pillar into his view: a boy, as young as Isabelle and just as pretty. His tawny eyes –_

"Tawney? They're not Tawney!" Jace sputtered. "It's called gold, you illiterate fu-"

"Jace! Just read!" Clary shouted.

 _-glittered like chips of amber. "So," the boy said. "Are there any more with you?"_

 _The blue-haired boy could feel blood welling up under the too – tight metal making his wrists slippery. "Any other what?"_

" _Come on now." The tawney – eyed boy held up his hands, and his dark sleeves slipped down, showing the runes inked all over his wrists, the backs of his hands, his palms. "You know what I am."_

 _Far back inside his skull, the shackled boy's second set of teeth began to grind._

"Shadowhunter, _" he hissed._

 _The other boy grinned all over his face. "Got you." He said._

 _Clary pushed the door to the storage room open, and stepped inside. For a moment she though it was deserted. The only windows were high up and barred; faint street noise came through them, the sound of honking cars and squealing brakes. The room smelled like old paint, and a heavy layer of dust covered the floor, marked by smeared shoe prints._

There's no one in here, _she realized, looking around in bewilderment. It was cold in the room, despite the August heat outside. Her back was icy with sweat. She took a step forward, tangling her feet in electrical wires. She bent down to free her sneaker from the cables – and heard voices._

"Yeah because that doesn't make you sound crazy at all." Clary just sighed in response.

 _A girl's laugh, a boy answering sharply. When she straightened up, she saw them._

 _It was as if they had sprung into existence between one blink of her eyes and the next. There was the girl in her long white dress, her black hair hanging down her back like damp seaweed. The two boys were with her – the tall one with black hair like hers, and the smaller, fair one, whose hair gleamed like brass in the dim light coming through the windows high above. The fair boy was standing with his hands in his pockets, facing the punk kid, who was tied to a pillar with what looked like piano wire, his hands stretched behind him, his legs bound at the ankles. His face was pulled tight with pain and fear._

 _Heart hammering in her chest, Clary ducked behind the nearest concrete pillar and peered around it. She watched as the fair – haired boy paced back and forth, his arms now crossed over his chest. "So," he said. "You still haven't told me if there are any other of your kind with you."_

"Do you realize how sketchy that was?" Clary asked with humor as she looked up at Jace.

He grinned down at her. "Sketchy or bad ass?"

Clary laughed and shook her head. "Keep reading."

 _Your kind? Clary wondered what he was talking about. Maybe she'd stumbled into some kind of gang war._

Jace let out a snort at that and Clary elbowed him in the ribs.

" _I don't know what you're talking about." The blue-haired boy's tone was pained but surly._

" _He means other demons," said the dark – haired boy, speaking for the first time. "You do know what a demon is, don't you?"_

 _The boy tied to the pillar turned his face away, his mouth working._

" _Demons," drawled the blond boy, tracing the work on the air with his finger. "Religiously defined as hell's denizens, the servants of Satan, but understood here, for the purposed of the Clave to be any malevolent spirit whose origin is outside our own home dimension-"_

" _That's enough, Jace," said the girl._

" _Isabelle's right," agreed the taller boy. "Nobody her needs a lesson in semantics – or demonology."_

 _They're crazy, Clary thought. Actually crazy._

"We are not Crazy!" Jace sounded almost offended.

Clary rolled her eyes and put down her sketch book. "At the time, I had no idea that everything you were saying was true, so yeah. Too me you were crazy."

"But not now?" Jace asked hopefully.

Clary laughed and reached up to give Jace a quick peck on her cheek. "No, not anymore." A look of smugness crossed Jace's face and he continued reading.

 _Jace raised his head and smiled. There was something fierce about the gesture, something that reminded Clary of documentaries she'd watched about lions on the Discovery Channel, the way the big cats would raise their heads and sniff the air for prey._

"I remind you a lion hunting?" Disbelief colored his tone as he studied the book closely. As if it would give him the reason behind that thought.

It probably would, Clary thought. "Just keep reading Jace."

" _Isabelle and Alec think I talk too much," He said, confidingly. "Do you think I talk to much?"_

 _The blue haired boy didn't reply. His mouth was still working. "I could give you information," he said. "I know where Valentine is."_

 _Jace glanced back at Alec, who shrugged. "Valentine's in the ground," Jace said. "The thing's just toying with us."_

Jace paused for a second and stared at the book. "Do you know how much pain could have been avoided, if we listened to the demon and taken care of Valentine before he could have caused much damage?" He looked down at Clary. "We wouldn't have had a huge war losing some of our own and, eradication Sebastian before he could do any damage. Max might still be alive." At the end of the speech, Jace's tone had turned almost hateful.

Clary looked at him sadly. "Yeah all that might have happened, but then you wouldn't know the truth about yourself. You would still think that you were Michael Wayland's son and that he was murdered in front of you at age 10. You wouldn't have known about your extra angel blood and there's a good chance that I wouldn't even be here at all. Yeah everything might have been good, but at the same time it might have been worse."

Jace frowned at that. There was truth in it. He wouldn't have known the truth about himself, and really, was that any better? The answer was no. No it wasn't any better. He looked down at the book and kept on reading.

 _Isabelle tossed her hair. "Kill it, Jace," she said. "It's not going to tell us anything."_

 _Jace raised his hand and Clary saw dim light spark off the knife he was holding. It was oddly translucent, the blade clear as crystal, sharp as a shard of glass, the hilt set with red stones._

 _The bound boy gasped. "Valentine is back!" he protested, dragging at the bonds that held his hands behind his back. "All the Infernal worlds know it – I know it – I can tell you where he is-"_

 _Rage flared suddenly in Jace's icy eyes. "By the angel, every time we capture one of you bastards, you claim you know where Valentine is. Well, we know where he is too. He's in Hell. And you-" Jace turned the knife in his grasp, the edge sparking like a line of fire. "You can join him there."_

 _Clary could take no more. She stepped out from behind the pillar. "Stop!" she cried. "You can't do this."_

"you know, it's cute that you are trying to be chivalrous and all, but man! That's got to be embarrassing!" The laughter was clear in Jace's voice.

"Your telling me!" Clary moaned. Burying her head into Jace's chest, trying to escape from the embarrassment as it flooded her checks and face. Jace just chuckled and continued to read.

 _Jace whirled, so startled that the knife flew from his hand and clattered against the concrete floor. Isabelle and Alec turned along with him, wearing identical expressions of astonishment. The blue-haired boy hung in his bonds, stunned and gaping._

 _It was Alec who spoke first. "What's this?" he demanded, looking from Clary to his companions, as if they might know what she was doing there._

" _It's a girl," Jace said, recovering his composure. "Surely you've seen girls before, Alec. Your sister Isabelle is one." He took a step closer to Clary, squinting as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. "A mundie girl," he said, half to himself. "And she can see us."_

" _Of course I can see you," Clary said. "I'm not blind, you know."_

" _Oh, but you are," said Jace, bending to pick up his knife. "You just don't know it." He straightened up. "You'd better get out of here, if you know what's good for you."_

" _I'm not going anywhere," Clary said. "If I do, you'll kill hm." She pointed at the boy with the blue hair._

" _That's true," admitted Jace, twirling the knife between his fingers. "What do you care if I kill him or not?"_

"Was it totally necessary you to be a giant dick to me?" Clary asked with a scowl.

Jace look surprised. "I wasn't that big of a dick to you here."

"No, not here," Clary consented, "But defiantly later you were."

"Eh," Jace shrugged. "you were new and I needed to assert my dominance." He finished with a joking grin.

Clary rolled her eyes with a smile. "Yeah, whatever."

Jace snickered and continued reading.

" _Be-because-," Clary sputtered. "You can't just go around killing people."_

" _You're right," said Jace. "You can't go around killing people." He pointed at the boy with blue hair, whose eyes were slitted. Clary wondered if he'd fainted. "That's not a person, little girl. It may look like a person and talk like a person and maybe even bleed like a person. But it's a monster."_

" _Jace," said Isabelle warningly. "That's enough."_

" _You're crazy," Clary said, backing away from him. "I've called the police, you know. They'll be here any second."_

" _She's lying," said Alec, but there was doubt on his face. "Jace, do you-"_

 _He never got to finish his sentence. At that moment the blue-haired boy, with a yowling cry, tore free of the restraints binding him to the pillar, and flung himself on Jace._

 _They fell to the ground and rolled together, the blue-haired boy tearing at Jace with hands that glittered as if tipped with metal. Clary backed up, wanting to run, but her feet caught on a loop of wiring and she went down, knocking the breath out of her chest. She could hear Isabelle shrieking. Rolling over, Clary saw the blue-haired boy slashed at Jace with claws extended. Jace threw an arm up to protect himself, and the claws raked it, spattering blood. The blue-haired boy lunged again – and Isabelle's whip came down across his back. He shrieked and fell to the side._

 _Swift as a flick of Isabelle's whip, Jace rolled over. There was a blade gleaming in his hand. He sank the knife into the blue-haired boy's chest. Blackish liquid exploded around the hilt. The boy arched off the floor, gurgling and twisting. With a grimace Jace stood up. His black shirt was blacker now in some places, wet with blood. He looked down at the twitching form at his feet, reached down, and yanked out the knife. The hilt was slick with black fluid._

"You know, It's really weird for me to read about you seeing what I'm doing in the past. Like I remember that fight, but I don't remember it from that point of view. It's… weird…" Jace looked down at Clary who was trying not to laugh. "Do you get me?"

Clary nodded her head. "Yeah, I get you."

 _The blue-haired boy's eyes flickered open. His eyes fixed on Jace, seemed to burn. Between his teeth, he hissed, "So be it. The Forsaken will take you all."_

 _Jace seemed to snarl. The boy's eyes rolled back. His body began to jerk and twitch as he crumpled, folding in on himself, growing smaller and smaller until he vanished entirely._

 _Clary scrambled to her feet, kicking free of the electrical wiring. She began to back away. None of them was paying attention to her. Alec had reached Jace and was holding his arm, pulling at the sleeve, probably trying to get a good look at the wound. Clary turned to run – and found her way blocked by Isabelle, whip in hand. The gold length of it was stained with dark fluid. She flicked it toward Clary, and the end wrapped itself around her wrist and jerked tight. Clary gasped with pain and surprise._

" _Stupid little mundie," Isabelle said between her teeth. "You could have gotten Jace killed."_

"Which is bull shit, because I totally had that guy." Jace muttered. But at the same time he was happy that Isabelle would stand up for him. Even though it was against his girl.

" _He's crazy," Clary said, trying to pull her wrist back. The whip bit deeper into her skin. "You're all crazy. What do you think you are, vigilante killers? The police-"_

" _The police aren't usually interested unless you can produce a body," said Jace. Cradling his arm, he picked he's way across the cable-strewn floor toward Clary. Alec followed behind him, his face screwed into a scowl._

 _Clary glanced at the spot where the boy had disappeared from, and said nothing. There wasn't even a smear of blood there – nothing to show that the boy had ever existed._

" _They return to their home dimensions when they die," said Jace. "In case you were wondering."_

"I wasn't but thanks for the information." Clary joked.

Jace barked out a laugh. "Oh I'm sure you weren't; you were too busy being impressed by my amazing physique as I was fighting."

"I was not, you know that, you read the passage about it! I was too busy trying to get away from the crazy people who thought it was ok to kill someone!" Clary said back with a smile.

"We aren't crazy and that was not a human!" Jace laughed. He started reading again before Clary could say anything back.

" _Jace," Alec hissed. "Be careful."_

 _Jace drew his arm away. A ghoulish freckling of blood marked his face. He still remaindered her of a lion, with his wide spaced, light-colored eyes and that tawny gold hair._

"Wide spaced?!" Jace shouted in outrage. "Um, excuse me! My eyes are perfect, not wide spaced!"

Clary laughed and told him to keep reading.

" _She can see us, Alec," he said. "She already knows too much."_

" _So what do you want me to do with her?" Isabelle demanded._

" _Let her go," Jace said quietly. Isabelle shot him a surprised, almost angry look, but didn't argue. The whip slithered away, freeing Clary's arm. She rubbed her sore wrist and wondered how the hell she was going to get out of there._

" _Maybe we should bring her back with us," Alec said. "I bet Hodge would like to talk to her."_

" _No way are we bringing her to the Institute," said Isabelle. "She's a_ mundie _."_

" _Or is she?" said Jace softly. His quiet tone was worse than Isabelle's snapping or Alec's anger. "Have you had dealings with demons, little girl? Walked with the warlocks, talked the Night Children? Have you-"_

" _My name is not 'little girl,'" Clary interrupted. "And I have no idea what you're talking about."_ Don't you? _Said a voice in the back of her head._ You saw that boy vanish into thin air. Jace isn't crazy – you just wish he was. _"I don't believe in – in demons, or whatever you-"_

" _Clary?" It was Simon's voice. She whirled around. He was standing by the storage room door. One of the burly bouncers who'd been stamping the hands at the front door was next to him. "Are you okay?" He peered at her through the gloom. "Why are you in here by yourself? What happened to the guys – you know, the ones with the knives?"_

 _Clary stared at him, then looked behind her, where Jace, Isabelle, and Alec stood, Jace still in his bloody shirt with the knife in his hand. He grinned at her and dropped a half-apologetic, and half-mocking shrug. Clearly he wasn't surprised that neither Simon nor the bouncer could see them._

 _Somehow neither was Clary. Slowly she turned back to Simon, knowing how she must look to him, standing alone in a damp storage room, her feet tangled in bright plastic wiring cables. "I thought they went in here," she said lamely. "But I guess they didn't. I'm sorry." She glanced from Simon, whose expression was changed from worried to embarrassed, to the bouncer, who just looked annoyed. "I was a mistake."_

 _Behind her, Isabelle giggled._

"You know, you and Isabelle could have been nicer to me," clary stated. "I mean I was obviously freaking out, considering this was the first time something like this happened to me. A little empathy would have been appreciated."

Jace shrugged. "It was also the first time something like that happened to us too, so we were a little freaked out as well. We were too busy trying to figure out what the hell was going on to worry about your feeling." He looked down at her. "But you were right, it was a little rude of us."

" _I don't believe it," Simon said stubbornly as Clary, standing at the curb, tried desperately to hail a cap. Street cleaners had come down Orchard while they were inside the club, and the street was glossed black with oily water._

" _I know," she agreed. "You'd think there'd be some cabs. Where is everyone going at midnight on a Sunday?" She turned back to him, shrugging. "You think we'd have better lick on Houston?"_

" _Not the cabs," Simon said. "you – I don't believe you. I don't believe that those guys with the knives just disappeared."_

 _Clary sighed. "Maybe there weren't any guys with knives, Simon. Maybe I just imagined the whole thing."_

" _No way." Simon raised his hand over his head, but the oncoming taxis whizzed by him, spraying dirty water. "I saw your face when I came into that storage room. You looked seriously freaked out, like you'd seen a ghost."_

 _Clary thought of Jace with his lion-cat eyes. She glanced down at her wrist, braceleted by a thin red line where Isabell's whip had curled._ No, not a ghost, _she thought._ Something even weirder than that.

" _It was just a mistake," she said wearily. She wondered why she wasn't telling him the truth. Except of course, that he'd think she was crazy. And there was something about what had happened – something about the black blood bubbling up around Jace's knife, something about his voice when he'd said_ Have you talked with the Night Children? _That she wanted to keep to herself._

" _Well, it was a hell of an embarrassing mistake," Simon said. He glanced back at the club, where a thin line still snaked out the door and halfway down the block. "I doubt they'll every let us back into Pandemonium."_

" _What do you care? You hate Pandemonium." Clary raised her hand again as a yellow shape sped toward them through the fog. This time, though, the taxi screeched to a halt at their corner, the driver laying into his horn as if he needed to get their attention._

" _finally we get lucky." Simon yanked the taxi door open and slid onto the plastic-covered backseat. Clary followed, inhaling the familiar New York cab smell of old cigarette smoke, leather, and hair spray. "We're going to Brooklyn," Simon said to the cabbie, and then he turned to Clary. "Look, you know you can tell me anything, right?"_

 _Clary hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Sure, Simon," she said. "I know I can."_

 _She slammed the cab door shut behind her, and the taxi took off into the night._

"End of the chapter," Jace said. He handed the book to Clary. "Your turn."

Clary took the book and flipped through to the end of it. "485 pages?" Her voice came out sounding annoyed and outraged. "This is going to take forEVER to get through!"

Jace just laughed. "How many chapters are there?"

Clary quickly flipped through the book. "Including the epilogue? 24." She sighed and opened the book back up to the start of chapter 2. "Might as well get this done and over with, then."

 **A.N.: So some people had the idea about all the other characters reading some of the juicier parts of the books, parts like kissing scenes and inside thoughts. I am working on how to incorporate them all into the story, but for right now it's just going to be Clary's and Jace's point of view of them reading the books. As always, please review and tell me what you think of it.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the mortal instruments, just playing around with the characters a little bit.**

 **A.N.: So I was think, maybe an update every week? Then I realized that I don't really have the time for that, so instead I will give you guys a promise. I will update at least once a month. I am getting ready for college so I won't have a lot of time, but I will try to fit this story in whenever I can!**

 **Enjoy this new chapter, I tried to add some more humor…**

Clary took a deep breath and prepared herself for a new bout of embarrassment this chapter was sure to bring. On the plus side though, with her reading, maybe there will be less interruptions from the peanut gallery that was Jace. "Chapter 2," she started. "Secrets and lies."

"Oh!" said Jace (aka, the peanut gallery). "That sounds ominous and good. I bet there's going to be some truths coming out in this chapter."

"I don't think so," responded Clary. "The chapter is called Secrets and lies, not truths and gossip topics." Jace pouted and slumped into the bed. He wrapped an arm around Clary and pulled her closer.

"Let's get started then." He pouted.

 _The dark prince sat astride his black steed, his sable cape flowing behind him. A golden circlet bound his blond locks, his handsome face was cold with the rage of battle, and…_

"What the hell kind of chapter beginner is that?" Jace exclaimed.

Clary sighed as she thought about the prince she used to draw all the time. She wouldn't tell anybody but he was her imaginary crush when she was younger. She remembers trying to draw him in this passage. She hadn't thought about him in forever, but the appearance of Jace and co. in her life had sent her thoughts his way. "It was a drawing that I was attempting. The author was obviously trying to explain the drawing so that the reader would get a sense of the drawing, a mental picture."

"He kind of sounds like me" Jace said with a smile. Clary didn't say anything in response to that, she just kept on reading.

" _And his arm looked like an eggplant," Clary muttered to herself in exasperation._

"Hey, my arm does not look like that! I mean, I know at that point in time you only had a brief glimpse of me, but even that brief glance should have told you that my arm does not look like an eggplant!" Jace sounded upset, but Clary could hear the humor hidden beneath it.

"I wasn't drawing you, Jace. Just some random character that had popped in to my head." A little white lie about where the prince had come from wasn't a big deal, right?

To avoid any more questions, or outburst about the prince, Clary kept on reading, ignoring for the time being Jace's sputtering.

 _The drawing just wasn't working. With a sigh she tore het another sheet from her sketchpad, crumpled it up, and tossed it against the orange wall of her bedroom. Already the floor was littered with discarded balls of paper, a sure sign that her creative juices weren't flowing the way she'd hoped. She wished for the thousandth time that she could be more like her mother. Everything Jocelyn Fray drew, painted, or sketched was beautiful, and seemingly effortless._

 _Clary pulled her headphones out – cutting off Stepping Razor midsong – and rubbed her aching temples. It was only then that she became aware that the loud, piercing sound of a ringing telephone was echoing through the apartment. Tossing the sketchpad onto the bed, she jumped to her feet and ran into the living room, where the retro-red phone sat on a table near the front door._

" _Is this Clarissa Fray?" The voice on the other end of the phone sounded familiar, though not immediately identifiable._

 _Clary twirled the phone cord nervously around her finger. "Yeeees?"_

" _HI, I'm one of the knife – carrying hooligans you met last night in Pandemonium? I'm afraid I made a bad impression and was hoping you'd give me a chance to make it up to-"_

"Umm, I don't remember calling you at all." Jace said worriedly.

Clary let out an unlady like snort at that. "It was Simon. He was trying to be funny and failing at it." Jace nodded his head in agreement and Clary continued to read.

" _SIMON!" Clary held the phone away from her ear as he cracked up laughing. "That is so not funny!"_

" _Sure it is. You just don't see the humor."_

" _Jerk." Clary sighed, leaning up against the wall. "You wouldn't be laughing if you'd been here when I got home last night."_

" _Why not?"_

" _My mom. She wasn't happy that we were late. She freaked out. It was messy."_

" _What? Its not our fault there was traffic!" Simon protested. He was the youngest of two children and had a finely honed sense of familial injustice._

" _Yeah, well, she doesn't see it that way. I disappointed her, I let her down, I made her worry, blah blah blah. I am the bane of her existence," Clary said, mimicking her mother's precise phrasing with only a slight twinge of guilt._

Clary felt that same twinge of guilt again. Her mother was only trying to keep her safe from Valentine. Jace noticing her pause in reading, looked down at her and saw the guilty expression.

"It's alright," he said. "You had no idea then." Clary nodded her head to show that she heard him and kept on reading.

" _So, are you grounded?" Simon asked, a little too loudly. Clary could hear a low rumble of voices behind him; people talking over each other._

" _I don't know yet," she said. "My mom went out this morning with Luke, and they're not back yet. Where are you, anyway? Eric's?"_

" _Yeah. We just finished up practice." A cymbal clashed behind Simon. Clary winced. "Eric's doing a poetry reading over at Java Jones tonight," Simon went on, naming a coffee shop around the corner from Clary's that sometimes had live music at night. "The whole band's going to go to show their support. Want to come?"_

Clary flinched remembering the awful, ear-bleeding experience that had been Eric's poetry. It was not something that she was looking forward to reliving that certain moment. A grumble from Jace's direction told Clary that he wasn't exactly looking forward to it either.

" _Yeah, all right."_

"No, not all right!" Jace said, nearly shouting at the book version of Clary. "Don't go! Don't torture yourself that way!"

Clary surprised a smile and looked up at him. "You realize that, if I don't go then I'm left behind at the house. And if I'm left behind at the house then, I don't meet you and you don't tell me about the shadow world. Also being left behind at the house means I would be there when Valentine's men came looking, and they would have grabbed me or killed me. You never know."

Jace frowned at the thought of her being in Valentine's clutches. He refused to believe that he would have had her killed. Maybe the ear torture would be better. He grudgingly admitted that to Clary, who in turn, smirked and kept on reading.

 _Clary paused, tugging on the phone cord anxiously. "Wait, no."_

" _Shut up, guys, will you?" Simon yelled, the faintness of his voice making Clary suspect that he was holding the phone away from his mouth. He was back a second later, sounding troubled. "Was that a yes or a no?"_

"Yeah, Clary," Jace smirked. "Was that a yes or a no? As in, was that a 'Yes, I'll date you', or 'No, you repulse me more than a squished worm left out on a hot sunny day.'" Clary elbowed Jace as a response and continued on with the book.

" _I don't know." Clary bit her lip. "My mom's still mad at me about last night. I'm not sure I want to piss her off by asking for any favors. If I'm going to get in trouble, I don't want it to be on account of Eric's lousy poetry."_

" _Come on, it's not so bad," Simon said. Eric was his next-door neighbor, and the two had known each other most of their lives. They weren't close the was Simon and Clary were, but they had formed a rock band together at the start of sophomore year, along with Eric's friends Matt and Kirk. They practiced together faithfully in Eric's parents' garage every week. "Besides, it's not a favor," Simon added, "it's a poetry slam around the block from you house. It's not like I'm inviting you to some orgy in Hoboken. Your mom can come along if she wants."_

"Orgy in Hoboken?" A hum came from the back of Jace's throat. "Some interesting friends you got there, Clary." He said, grinning down at her like a mad man. Clary didn't even acknowledge him at this point in time. She was seriously getting sick and tired of his remarks cutting in every few sentences. But, if she was really being honest with herself, then she would admit that they are kind of funny, and the comic relief could really be helpful, while reading this book.

" _ORGY IN HOBOKEN!" Clary head someone, probably Eric, yell. Another cymbal crashed. She imagined her mother listening to Eric read his poetry, and she shuddered inwardly._

" _I don't know. If all you show up here, I think she'll freak."_

" _Then I'll come alone. I'll pick you up and we can walk over there together, meet the rest of them there. Your mom won't mind. She loves me."_

 _Clary had to laugh. "Sign of her questionable taste, if you ask me."_

Jace let out a snort at that. At times, his girlfriend could really be funny.

" _Nobody did." Simon clicked off, amid shouts from his bandmates._

 _Clary hung up the phone and glanced around the living room. Evidence of her mother's artistic tendencies was everywhere, from the handmade velvet throw pillows pilled on the dark red sofa to the walls hung with Jocelyn's paintings, carefully framed – landscapes mostly: the winding streets of downtown Manhattan lit with golden light; scenes of Prospect Park in winter, the gray ponds edged with lacelike films of white ice._

 _On the mantel over the fireplace was a framed photo of Clary's father. A thoughtful-looking fair man in military dress, his eyes bore the telltale traces of laugh likes at the corners. He'd been a decorated soldier serving overseas. Jocelyn had some of his medals in a small box by her bed. Not that the medals had done anyone any good when Jonathon Clark had crashed his car into a tree just outside Albany and died before his daughter was even born._

"You know, it seems all kind of stupid and naive when I read this." Clary said. Upon seeing the confused look Jace sent her, she quickly added: "The fact that I thought this man was my father. I mean, look at all the clues! The lock of hair, the little baby shoes and such in a carved box? That screams child, not man."

Jace sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He does agree with Clary somewhat. It does seem a little naive after knowing the truth, but at the time, Clary was just looking for someone to be her father, so she ignored the signs. It happens to everyone. Look at him with his father/valentine. It was the same thing. "I think that you were honestly overlooking the clues because you wanted a father and was willing to believe anything your mother said too you. She never gave you any reason as to think that she wasn't telling the truth. As far as you were concerned at that point in time, your mother never lied to you about things as big as that. So don't think of yourself as stupid, think of yourself as hopeful." Jace ended his speech by squeezing Clary closer to him and kissing the top of her head. "Now continue, please. This insight to your mind in very riveting."

Clary laughed and started to read again.

 _Jocelyn had gone back to using her maiden name after he died. She never talked about Clary's father, but she kept the box engraved with his initials, J.C., next to her bed. Along with the medals were one or two photos, a wedding ring, and a single lock of blonde hair. Sometimes Joselyn took the box out and opened it and held the lock of hair very gently in her hands before putting it back and carefully locking the box up again._

 _The sound of the key turning in the front door roused Clary out of her reverie. Hastily she threw herself down on the couch and tried to look as if she were immersed in one of the paperbacks her mother had left stacked on the end table. Jocelyn recognized reading as a sacred pastime and usually wouldn't interrupt Clary in the middle of a book, even to yell at her._

 _The door opened with a thump. It was Luke, his arms full of what looked like big square pieces of pasteboard. When he set them down, Clary saw that they were cardboard boxes, folded flat. He straightened up and turned to her with a smile._

" _Hey, Un – her, Luke," she said. He'd asked her to stop calling him Uncle Luke about a year ago, claiming that it made him feel old, and anyway reminded him of Uncle Tom's Cabin. Besides, he'd reminded her gently, he wasn't really her uncle, just a close friend of her mother's who'd known her all her life. "Where's Mom?"_

" _Parking the truck," he said, straightening his lanky frame with a groan. He was dressed in his usual uniform: old jeans, a flannel shirt, and a bent pair of gold-rimmed spectacles that sat askew on the bridge of his nose. "Remind me again why this building has no service elevator?"_

" _Because it's old, and has character," Clary said immediately. He grinned. "What are the boxes for?" she asked._

 _His grin vanished. "Your mother wanted to pack up some things," he said, avoiding her gaze._

" _What things?" Clary asked._

 _He gave an airy wave. "Extra stuff lying around the house. Getting in the way. You know she never throws anything out. So what are you up to? Studying?" He plucked the book out of her hand and read out loud: "The world still teems with those motley beings whom a more sober philosophy has discarded. Fairies and goblins, ghosts and demons, still hover about-" He lowered the book and looked at her over his glasses. "Is this for school?"_

" _The golden Bough? No. School's not for two weeks."_

"Not that I'll be going back." Clary muttered under her breath.

"No," Jace said, "You traded in that hum – bum boring life for one of adventure with me!"

Clary snorted again and kept reading.

 _Clary took the book back from him. "It's my mom's."_

" _I had a feeling."_

 _She dropped the book on the table. "Luke?"_

" _Uh-huh?" The book already forgotten, he was rummaging in the tool kit next to the hearth. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out an orange plastic tape gun and gazed at it with deep satisfaction._

" _What would you do if you saw something nobody else could see?"_

"Jeez Clary!" Jace said with a smile. "Way to spring it on the poor guy! He probably had a heart attack!"

Clary glowered at the book. "Considering he knew what I was talking about, but purposely avoided my question, he kind of deserves it."

"He didn't avoid your-"

"Just listen."

 _The tape gun fell out of Luke's hand, and hit the tiled hearth. He knelt to pick it up, not looking at her. "You mean, if I were to only witness to a crime, that sort of thing?"_

" _No. I mean, if there were other people around, but you were the only one who could see something. As if it were invisible to everyone but you."_

 _He hesitated, still kneeling, the dented tape gun gripped in his hand_

" _I know it sounds crazy," Clary ventured nervously, "but…"_

 _He turned around his eyes, very blue behind the glasses, rested on her with a look of firm affection. "Clary, you're and artist, like your mother. That means you see the world in ways that other people don't. It's your gift, to see the beauty and the horror in ordinary things. It doesn't make you crazy – just different. There's nothing wrong with being different."_

"Okay first of all, 'there's nothing wrong with being different'? That coming from the werewolf is just comical." Jace started. "And second of all, I can totally see what you are saying. He totally deflected you question."

Clary 'mmm-hmmm-ed' in agreement and continued on with reading.

 _Clary pulled her legs up, and rested her chin on her knees. In her mind's eye she saw the storage room, Isabelle's gold whip, the blue – haired boy convulsing in her death spasms, and Jace's tawny eyes. Beauty and horror._

"Aw! You thought I was beautiful! I'm blushing!"

"Jace I swear to god!"

 _She said, "If my dad had lived, do you think he'd have need an artist?"_

"I don't really think that a paintbrush is Valentine's thing." Jace snarked. He turned to look at clary, but froze at the look that she was giving him. This look passed beyond the spectrum of 'If looks could kill' and entered a whole new world of looks. Looks that promised death by the most extreme measures, not to mention the most painful. "Uhh, Clary?"

"I swear to the angel! If you don't stop interrupting me with stupid shit, I will rip off your toes and shove them where the sun doesn't shine, so far up that you would be tasting them!" Jace hastily nodded his head ok. He wondered if it was the time of her month, with all the mood swings she was having.

 _Luke looked taken aback. Before he could answer her, the door swung open and Clary's mother stalked into the room, her boot heels clacking on the polished wooden floor. She handed Luke a set of jingling car keys and turned to look at her daughter._

 _Jocelyn Fray was a slim, compact woman, her hair a few shades darker than Clary's and twice as long. At the moment it was twisted up in a dark red knot, stuck through with a graphite pen to hold in place. She wore paint – spattered overalls over a lavender T-shirt, and brown hiking boots whose soles were caked with oil paint._

 _People always told Clary that she looked like her mother, but she couldn't see it herself._

Clary looked over the next two paragraphs hurriedly before reading them out loud. She groaned, they were all about how she saw herself. There was no way she was going to read this to Jace. Way to embarrassing and was too true.

Jace, noticing her stop reading, turned to go pick on her for interrupting when she yelled at him for it, but got stopped by the groan she let loose. He looked down at her bright red face, and figured that it was something she read or was about to read. He thought back to what she just read. Nope, nothing embarrassing. He tried to look over her shoulder to see what was about to be read, but Clary quickly dropped the book to her stomach, blocking the pages.

"I don't think that the next couple of paragraphs are worth reading, I'm just going to skip ahead." Clary mumbled, twisting as she brought the book up to block Jace from seeing what was written.

Jace got a sudden idea. He poked her in her ribs, where he knew that she was ticklish, and grabbed the book when she jerked and screeched. He started to read them out loud, but got interrupted a couple of times by Clary grabbing at the book. "Jace, I really don't want you to read that!" She sounded almost upset. He gave her a stern look and held the book up over his head where she couldn't reach it.

"I'm going to read it weather you like it or not!" He said. She just harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest. It wasn't worth the fight anyway. So what if he finds out how she thinks about herself anyway. It's not like he probably doesn't see her that way too. Jace started to read.

 _The only thing that was similar about them was their figures: they were both slender, with small chests and narrow hips. She knew she wasn't beautiful like her mother was. To be beautiful you had to be willowy and tall. When you were as short as Clary was, just over five feet, you were cute. Not pretty or beautiful, but cute. Throw in carroty hair and a face full of freckles, and she was Raggedy Ann to her mother's Barbie doll._

 _Jocelyn even had a graceful way of walking that made people turn their heads to watch her go by. Clary, by contrast, was always tripping over her feet. The only time people turned to watch her go by was when she hurtled past them as she fell downstairs._

Jace paused when he got to the end, a sad look crossed his face. "Is this how you really see yourself?"

Clary reached out and snagged the book from his hands. "So what."

"So what?!" Jace yelled. "That is not how people see you! You are a beautiful girl with more class than any other girl that I have met before! You have the most perfect face that I have been fascinated with since I saw it, and the fact that you don't need make up to make it so beautiful is even better. People have spent thousands to get their faces shaped the way yours is! And your hair isn't carroty! It's like wild flames that dance around and are so soft! It's what draws the eye of every guy you pass! And you may not have the biggest chest out there, but guess what, that makes you all the more perfect. It means that you don't spend all you time showing off everything to get guys, you have you amazing smile and bright eyes and shining personality! You light up the room whenever you walk in. You don't understand how beautiful you really are! I have to practically fight off guys whenever we go out, because they are always checking you out! You are ten times better than any girl ever!"

Clary was struck dumb by the passionate speech that Jace just delivered. She honestly never knew that that's how he saw her. It honestly made her feel better. So what if the world sees her as a chest-less, short, scrawny, carrot head freak when Jace sees her as a…. as a… well, as a goddess. She just kept opening and closing her mouth, trying to figure out words will explain how she feels. Realizing that she couldn't, she just dove at him and slammed her lips on his. She poured everything that she felt into the kiss, and he did the same. His arms came around her waist and lifted her up into his lap. She raised her arms up around his neck and moaned. _I love you, I love you,_ both of their lips seem to say. And she _knows_ that's the way he feels. He says it too her with every brush of his lips against hers, with every swipe of his tongue against hers, he said it. She felt tears well up in her eyes. She had, honestly never felt this loved before.

Unfortunately, the burning sensation in her lounges reminded her that they both needed to breathe, so she tore her lips away from his. She panted heavily, her chest brushing against his as he did the same.

"Well that certainly seemed like a good response to my speech." Jace joked.

Clary let out a surprise laugh. She leaned her forehead against his, and looked into his eyes. "I never knew that that's how you see me." She said in awe.

Jace just tightened his arms around her waist. "Always and forever." He murmured back, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. "Even when we are grey and old, I will see you as a fiery spirit that stole my heart while accusing me of murder."

Clary let out a breathy laugh and moved to get off his lap. Unfortunately, (or maybe fortunately) he wouldn't move his arms. So she just wiggled until she was sitting sideways against him, causing him to let out a moan that defiantly didn't sound like it was in pain. She blushed when she felt just how _happy_ he was with her wiggling. She cleared her throat and picked up the book from the side of the bed where it was thrown in the midst of their impromptu kissing session. "We should probably get back to reading, Izzy would be pissed if we didn't finish a good chunk of it by lunch."

"Yeah, probably." Jace said with a husky voice as he looked down at her with hooded eyes.

Clary's eyes darkened as well as she lifted herself up to his ear. "later maybe, if your good and quite interrupting me during reading." She breathed in his ear. His response was to tighten his arms again, and to hand her the book.

"Then get reading, woman! We need to finish this to get to the good stuff!"

Clary laughed and started to read again.

" _Thanks for bringing the boxes up," Clary's mother said to Luke, and smiled at him. He didn't return the smile. Clary's smile did an uneasy flip. Clearly there was something going on. "Sorry it took me so long to find a space. There must be a million people at the park today-"_

" _Mom?" Clary interrupted. "What are the boxes for?"_

 _Jocelyn bit her lip. Luke flicked his eyes toward Clary, mutely urging Jocelyn forward. With a nervous twitch of her wrist, Jocelyn pushed a dangling lock of hair behind her ear and went to join her daughter on the couch._

 _Up close Clary could see how tired her mother looked. There were dark half – moons under her eyes, and her lids were pearly with sleeplessness._

" _Is this about last night?" Clary asked._

" _No," her mother said quickly, and then hesitated. "Maybe a little. You shouldn't have done what you did last night. You know better."_

" _And I already apologized. What is this about? If you're grounding me, get it over with."_

" _I'm not," said her mother. "grounding you." Her voice was as tout as a wire. She glanced at Luke, who shook his head._

" _Just tell her, Jocelyn," he said._

" _Could you not talk about me like I'm not here?" Clary said angrily. 'And what do you mean, tell me? Tell me what?"_

 _Jocelyn expelled a sigh. "We're going on vacation."_

 _Luke's expression when blank, like a canvas wiped clean of paint._

"You make a lot of references to painting and drawing." Jace noted.

"Well, I am an artist." Clary stated back.

 _Clary shook her head. "That's what this is about? You're going on vacation?" She sank back against the cushions. "I don't get it. Why the big production?"_

" _I don't think you understand. I meant we're all going on vacation. The three of us – you, me, and Luke. We're going to the farmhouse."_

" _Oh." Clary glanced at Luke, but he had his arms crossed over his chest and was staring out the window, his jaw pulled tight. She wondered what was upsetting him. He loved the old farmhouse in upstate New York – he'd bought and restored himself ten years before, and he went there whenever he could. "For how long?"_

" _For the rest of the summer," said Jocelyn, "I brought the boxes in case you want to pack up any books, painting supplies-"_

" _For the rest of the summer?" Clary sat upright with indignation. "I can't do that, Mom. I have plans – Simon and I were going to have a back – to – school party, and I've got a bunch of meetings with my art group, and ten more classes at Tisch-"_

" _I'm sorry about Tisch. But the other things can be canceled. Simon will understand, and so will your art group."_

 _Clary hear the implacability in her mother's tone and realized she was serious. "But I paid for those art classes! I saved up all year! You promised." She whirled, turning to Luke. "Tell her! Tell her it isn't fair!"_

 _Luke didn't look away from the window, through a muscle jumped in his cheek. "She's your mother. It's her decision to make"_

" _I don't get it." Clary turned back to her mother. "Why?"_

" _I have to get away, Clary." Jocelyn said, the corners of her mouth trembling. "I need the peace, the quiet, to paint, and money is tight right now-"_

" _So sell some more of Dad's stocks," clary said angrily. "That's what you usually do. Isn't it?"_

 _Jocelyn recoiled. "That's hardly fair."_

" _Look, go if you want to go. I don't care. I'll stay here without you. I can work; I can get a job at Starbucks or something. Simon said they're always hiring. I'm old enough to take care of myself-"_

" _No!" The sharpness in Jocelyn's voice made Clary jump. "I'll pay you back for the art classes, Clary. But you are coming with us. IT isn't optional. You're too young to stay here on your own. Something might happen."_

" _Like what? What could happen?" Clary demanded_

"Something like my real father coming back and starting a war with all of downworld, but oh wait! He would have done that even if we went to the farmhouse!" The sarcasm was so heavy in Clary's voice that one could have reached out and touched it.

Jace let out a snort at her. "Or even worse! You could discover the truth!"

Clary laughed. "Yeah, she would have hated that, too bad that's what actually happened. Although, knowing what I do now, she was only trying to protect me, so maybe I should have been a little nicer." Clary shrugged her shoulders. "Eh, too late now."

 _There was a crash. She turned in surprise to find that Luke had knocked over one of the framed pictures leaning against the wall. Looking distinctly upset, he set it back. When he straightened, his mouth was set in a grim line. "I'm leaving."_

 _Jocelyn bit her lip. "Wait." She hurried after him into the entryway, catching up just as he seized the doorknob. Twisting around on the sofa Clary could just overhear her mother's urgent whisper. "…Bane," Jocelyn was saying. "I've been calling him and calling him for the past three weeks. His voice mail says he's in Tanzania. What am I supposed to do?"_

" _Jocelyn." Luke shook his head. "You can't keep going to him forever."_

" _But Clary-"_

" _Isn't Jonathan," Luke hissed._

"Ohhh, foreshadowing." Jace said in a mocking voice. Clary elbowed him and continued reading.

" _You've never been the same since it happened, but Clary isn't Jonathon."_

 _What dos my father have to do with this? Clary thought, bewildered._

" _I can't just keep her at home, not let her go out. She won't put up with it."_

" _Of course she won't!" Luke sounded really angry. "She's not a pet, she's a teenager. Almost an adult."_

" _If we were out of the city…"_

" _Talk to her, Jocelyn." Luke's voice was firm. "I mean it." He reached for the doorknob._

 _The door flew open. Jocelyn gave a little scream._

" _Jesus!" Luke exclaimed._

" _Actually, it's just me," said Simon. "Although, I've been told the resemblance is startling." He waved at Clary form the doorway. "You ready?"_

 _Jocelyn took her hand away from her mouth. "Simon, were you eavesdropping?"_

 _Simon blinked. "No, I just got here." He looked from Jocelyn's pale face to Luke's grim one. "Is something wrong? Should I go?"_

" _Don't bother," Luke said. "I think we're done here." He pushed past Simon, thudding down the stairs at a rapid pace. Downstairs, the front door slammed shut._

"A werewolf tantrum, nice." Jace commented.

 _Simon hovered in the doorway, looking uncertain. "I can come back later," he said. "Really. It wouldn't be a problem."_

" _That might-," Jocelyn began, but clary was already on her feet._

" _Forget it, Simon. We're leaving," She said, grabbing her messenger bag from a hook near the door. She slung it over her shoulder, glaring at her mother. "See you later, Mom."_

 _Jocelyn bit her lip. "Clary, don't you think we should talk about his?"_

" _We'll have plenty of time to talk while we're on 'vacation'," Clary said venomously, and had the satisfaction of seeing her mother flinch._

"And there's the Clary tantrum." Jace smirked. Then dodged the elbow that Clary had sent his way. He snickered and made a face at Clary.

" _Don't wait up," she added, and, grabbing Simon's arm, she half – dragged him out the front door_

 _He dug his heels in, looking apologetically over his should at Clary's mother, who stood small and forlorn in the entryway, her hands knitted tightly together. "Bye, Mrs. Fray!" he called. "Have a nice evening!"_

" _Oh, shut up, Simon," Clary snapped, and slammed the door behind them, cutting off her mother's reply._

"I understand why you are mad at your mother, but did you really need to treat your pet rat that way? He's going to think that you don't like him."

"Quite calling Simon a rat!"

" _Jesus, women, don't rip my arm off." Simon protested as Clary hauled him downstairs after her, her green Sketchers slapping against the wooden stairs with every angry step. She glanced up, half – expecting to see her mother glaring down from the landing, but the apartment door stayed shut._

" _Sorry," Clary muttered, letting go of his wrist, she paused at the foot of the stairs, her messenger bag banging against her hip._

 _Clary's brownstone, like most in Park Slope, had once been the single residence of a wealthy family, Shades of its former grandeur were still evident in the curving staircase, the chipped marble entryway floor, and the wide single – panned skylight overhead. Now the house was split into separate apartments, and Clary and her mother shared the three – floor building with a downstairs tenant, and elderly woman who ran a psychic's shop out of her apartment. She hardly ever came out of it, through customer visits were infrequent. A gold plaque fixed to the door proclaimed her to be MADAME DOROTHEA, SEERESS AND PROHETESS._

 _The thick sweet scent of incense spilled from the half – open door into the foyer. Clary could hear a low murmur of voices._

' _Nice to see she's doing a booming business," Simon said. "It's hard to get steady prophet work these days."_

" _Do you have to be sarcastic about everything?" Clary snapped._

"You seem to be in an exceptionally bad mood then." Jace noted. "I wonder what's wrong?"

Clary gave him her best bitch face look. "You better be joking or I swear I will shove your sword up your ass." Clary felt a small amount of satisfaction when Jace's face noticeably paled.

 _Simon blinked, clearly taken aback. "I thought you liked it when I was witty and ironic."_

"No, rat boy," Jace commented. "She only likes it when I'm witty and ironic." Clary snorted, but didn't deny it.

 _Clary was about to reply when the door to Madame Dorothea's swung open and a man stepped out. He was tall, with brown skin, gold – green eyes like a cat's, and tangled black hair. He grinned at her blindingly, showed sharp white teeth._

"Wait, that's Magnus! What's he doing at your old house, talking to a fake witch?"

"That's a good questing, Jace."

 _A wave of dizziness came over her, the strong sensation that she was going to faint._

 _Simon glanced at her uneasily. "Are you all right? You look like you're going to pass out."_

 _She blinked at him. "What? No, I'm fine."_

 _He didn't seem to want to let it drop, "You look like you just saw a ghost."_

 _She shook her head. The memory of having seen something teased her, but when she tried to concentrate, it slid away l9ke water. "Nothing. I thought I saw Dorothea's cat, but I guess it was just a trick of the light." Simon stared at her. "I haven't eaten anything since yesterday," she added defensively. "I guess I'm a little out of it."_

 _He slid a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Come on, I'll buy you some food."_

"They key to my heart," clary chuckled.

Jace snorted. "So your saying that the only thing that I needed to do to get you to fall in love with me was to buy you some food?" He crossed his arms and mocked glowered. "Are any of your feelings for me real?! I feel unloved, objectified, mistreated!"

Clary laughed, leaned up and wrapped her arms around Jace's neck. His arms automatically settled around her waist. "I love you for more than that, but offering me food will defiantly get you brownie points.

Jace grinned and maneuvered Clary to be sitting sideways on his lap. "Brownie points are always good."

Clary smiled in response and snuggled deeper into his hold.

" _I just can't believe she's being like this," Clary said for the fourth time. Chasing a stray bit of guacamole around her plate with the tip of a nacho. They were at a neighborhood Mexican joint, a hole in the wall called Nacho mama. "Like grounding me every other week wasn't bad enough. Now I'm going to be exiled for the rest of the summer."_

" _Well, you know, your mom gets like this sometimes," Simon said. "like when she breathes in or out." He grinned at her around his veggie burrito._

" _Oh, sure, act like it's funny," she said. "You're not the one getting dragged off to the middle of nowhere for God knows how long-"_

" _Clary." Simon interrupted her tirade. "I'm not the one you're mad at. Besides, it isn't going to be permanent."_

" _How do you know that."_

" _Well because I know our mom," Simon said, after a pause. "I mean, you and I have been friends for what, then years now? I know she gets like this sometimes, Shell think better of it."_

 _Clary picked a hot pepper off her plate and nibbled the edge meditatively. "Do you, though?" She said. "Know her, I mean? I sometimes wonder if anyone does."_

 _Some blinked at her. "You lost me there."_

 _Clary sucked in air to cool her burning mouth. "I mean, she never talks about herself. I don't know anything about her early life, or her family, or much about her she met my dad. She doesn't even have wedding photos, It's like her life started when she had me. That what she always says when I ask her about it."_

"It's because she was secretly a shadowhunter, and was trying to hide that from you because she doesn't want you to be a part of it. And she doesn't have any wedding photos because that wasn't her husband and your dad," Jace said in a matter – of – fact tone. "And also that you have an older brother whose veins are pumping demon blood. And that your dad was trying to take over the shadow hunter world and she stole the mortal cup from him to stop him from doing it. But little do either of you know, he's going to attack you shortly and attempt to steal it from you."

"Gee thanks Jace!" There was so much sarcasm crammed into Clary's tone that Jace was surprised that he couldn't _see_ it. "Because I had no idea and I needed that history lesson!"

"Well you didn't then! I was just informing then – you!"

Clary glared at him, and continued reading.

" _Aw." Simon made a face at her. "That's sweet."_

" _No, it isn't. It's weird. It's weird that I don't know anything about my grandparents. I mean, I know my dad's parents weren't very nice to her, but could they have been that bad? What kind people don't want to even meet their granddaughter?"_

" _maybe she hates them. Maybe they were abusive or something," Simon suggested. "She does have those scars."_

 _Clary stared at him. "She has what?"_

 _He swallowed a mouthful of burrito. "Those little thin scars. All over her back and her arms I have seen your mother in a bathing suit, you know."_

" _I never noticed aby scars." Clary said decidedly. "I think your imagining things."_

 _He stared at her, and seemed about to say something when her cell phone, buried in her messenger bah, began an insistent blaring. Clary fished it out, gazed at the numbers blinking on the screen, and scowled. "It's my mom."_

" _I could tell from the look on your face. You going to talk to her?"_

" _Not right now," Clary said, feeling the familiar bite of guilt in her stomach as the phone stopped ringing and voice mail picked up. "I don't wasn't to fight with her."_

" _You can always stay at my house," Simon said. 'For as long as you want."_

" _Well, we'll see if she calms down first." Clary punched the voice mail button on her phone Her mother's voice sounded tense, but she was clearly trying for lightness: "Baby, I'm sorry if I sprang the vacation plan on yo8u. Come on home and we'll talk." Clary hung the phone up before the message ended, feeling even guiltier and still angry at the same time. "she wants to talk about it."_

"You realize that if I went home when she called and asked me too, I would be kidnapped by Valentine. I wonder if everything would turn out the same or if that means he would have won." Clary mused. Jace just shrugged. He had no answer to that.

" _Do you want to talk to her?"_

" _I don't know." Clary rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes. "Are you still going to the poetry reading?"_

" _I promised that I would."_

 _Clary stood up, pushing her chair back. "Then I'll go with you. I'll call her when It's over." The strap of her messenger bag slid down her arm. Simon pushed it back up absently, his fingers lingering at the bare skin of her shoulder._

 _The air outside was spongy with moisture, the humidity frizzing Cary's hair and sticking Simon's blue T – shirt to his back. "So, what's up with the band?" she asked. "Anything new? There was a lot of yelling in the background when I talked to you earlier."_

 _Simon's face lit up. "Things are great," he said. "Matt says he knows someone who could get us a gig at the Scrap Bar. We're talking about names again too."_

" _Oh, yeah?" Clary hid a smile. Simons band never actually produced any music. Mostly they sat around in Simon's living room, fight about potential names and band logos. She sometimes wondered if any of them could actually played an instrument. "What's on the table?"_

" _We're choosing between Sea Vegetable Conspiracy and Rock Solid Panda."_

 _Clary shook her head. "Those are both terrible."_

" _Eric suggested Lawn Chair Crisis."_

" _Maybe Eric should stick to gaming."_

" _But then we'd have to find a new drummer."_

" _Oh, is that what Eric does? I thought he just mooched money off you and went around telling girls at school that he was in a band in order to impress them."_

" _Not at all," Simon said breezily. "Eric has turned over a new leaf. He has a girlfriend they've been going out for three months."_

" _Practically married," Clary said, stepping around a couple pushing a toddler in a stroller: a little girl with yellow plastic clips in her hair who was clutching a pixie doll with gold – streaked sapphire wings. Out of the corner or her eye Clary thought she saw the wings flutter. She turned her head hastily._

" _Which means," Simon continued, "that I am the last member of the band not to have a girlfriend Which, you know, is the whole point of being in a band. To get girls."_

" _I thought it was all about the music." A man with a cane cut across her path, heading for Berkley Street. She glanced away, afraid that if she looked at anyone for too long they would sprout wings, extra arms, or long forked tongues like snakes. "Who cares if you have a girlfriend, anyway?"_

" _I care," Simon said gloomily. "Pretty soon the only people left without a girlfriend will be me and Wendell the school janitor. And he smells like Windex."_

" _At least you know he's still available."_

 _Simon glared. "Not funny, Fray"_

" _There's always Sheila 'The thong' Barbarino," Clary suggested. Clary had sat behind her in math class in ninth grade. Every time Sheila had dropped her pencil – which had been often – Clary had been treated to the sight of Sheila's underwear riding up above the waistband of her super – low – rise jeans._

" _That's who Eric's been dating for the past three months," Simon said. "His advice, meanwhile, was that I ought to just decide which girl in school had the most rockin' bod and ask her out on the first day of classes."_

" _Eric is a sexist pig," Clary said, suddenly not wanting to know which girl in school Simon thought had the most rockin' bod._

"Aw, were you jealous?" Jace voice sounded joking, but clary could hear the strain underneath. He was worried that she liked (and maybe still does) Simon.

Clary leaned up and kissed the underneath of Jace's jaw. "Nope just was hoping that my best friend, and your sister's boyfriend, wasn't a sexist pig," Jace nodded, happy with that answer.

" _Maybe you should call the band The Sexist Pigs."_

" _It has a ring to it." Simon seemed unfazed. Clary made a face at him, her messenger bag vibrating as her bone blared. She fished it out of the zip pocket. "Is it your mom again?" he asked._

 _Clary nodded. She could see her mother in her mind's eye, small and alone in the doorway of their apartment. Guilt unfurled in her chest._

 _She glanced up at Simon, who was looking at her, his eyes dark with concern. His face was so familiar she could have traced its lines in her sleep. She thought of the lonely weeks that stretched ahead without him, and shoved the phone back into her bag. "Come on," she said. "We're going to be late for the show."_

"And that's the last of this chapter, your turn." Clary said, handing the book to Jace.

He took it from her hands. "Oh joy!" He sounded actually happy. Clary looked at him weird. "I think that in the next chapter you and I met for the first time! Well actually second time, but you know, this time me and you will meet ALONE."

Clary shot a look at him. "Isn't this the same time that you threaten to kidnap me?"

Jace waved his hand at her. "Details, details."

Clary let loose a chuckle. "Just start reading you weirdo."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Anything that is publicly recognized is not mine. It all belongs to the fabulous Cassandra Clare. I only own the plot of this story**

Jace cleared his throat in an obnoxious manner, repeatedly. He glanced down at clary and caught sight of the deadpan look that she was sending his way, her eyes screaming that she wasn't entertained by him. He grinned at her, but when she didn't lose the look he cleared his throat one more time.

"Oh would you _please_ start the chapter?!"

Jace chuckled and started to read.

 _By the time they got to Java Jones, Eric was already onstage, swaying back and forth in front of the microphone with his eyes squinched shut. He's dyed the tips of his hair pink for the occasion. Behind him, Matt, looking stoned, was beating irregularly on a djembe._

Jace snickered. "Nice friends you got there, babe. Real stellar." Clary sent a punch towards his ribs that he barely reflected.

"They weren't my friends, they were Simons." Clary said in a matter – of – fact tone. Jace didn't miss the 'weren't' in she said. Sometimes it upsets him that she lost her friends when she realized that she was a shadowhunter, but at other times, he was glad. If she stayed friends with them, then she would have to split her time between pretending that she wasn't who she was, and not. Also, they would also spend time with her, time that she could be doing other more important things, things like hanging out with him.

" _This is going to suck so hard," Clary predicted. She grabbed Simon's sleeve and tugged him toward the doorway. "If we make a run for it, we can still get away."_

 _He shook his head determinedly. "I'm nothing if not a man of my word." He squared his shoulders. "I'll get the coffee if you find us a seat. What do you want?"_

" _Just coffee. Black – like my soul."_

 _Simon headed off toward the coffee bar, muttering under his breath something to the effect that it was a far, far better thing he did now than he had ever done before. Clary went to find them a seat._

 _The coffee show was crowed for a Monday; most of the threadbare – looking couches and armchairs were taken up with teenagers enjoying a free weeknight. The smell of coffee and clove cigarettes was overwhelming. Finally, Clary found an unoccupied love seat in a darkened corner toward the back. The only other person nearby was a blond girl in a n orange tank top, absorbed in playing with her iPod. Good, Clary thought, Eric won't be able to find us back here after the show to ask how his poetry was._

 _The blond girl leaned over the side of her chair and tapped Clary on the shoulder. "Excuse me." Clary looked up in surprise. 'Is that your boyfriends?" the girl asked._

 _Clary followed the line of the girl's gaze, already prepared to say, No, I don't know him, when she realized the girl meant Simon. He was headed toward them, face scrunched up in concentration as he tried not to drop either of his Styrofoam cups. "Uh, no," Clary said. "he's a friend of mine."_

 _The girl beamed. "He's cute. Does he have a girlfriend?"_

"Alright, let me just stop right here." Jace said. "First of all, Rat – boy isn't cute, I'm cute. Among other things. Also, he didn't actually get a girlfriend until he was a vampire, and I'm almost positive that the only reason why was the 'awe' of him _being_ a vamp. No other reason." Jace sounded determined and looked down at Clary. Almost daring her to tell him he was wrong.

Well, Clary was never one to turn down a dare.

"Actually he was – _is_ – cute. And he had a girlfriend before he turned Vamp. Me. Don't you remember?"

Jace sputtered at the reminder that Simon kissed his girl before he got too. "That doesn't count, you were only trying to find a replacement for me, and he was the closest option."

Clary rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Jace. Keep reading."

 _Clary hesitated a second too long before replying. "no."_

 _The girl looked suspicious. "Is he gay?"_

Jace burst out in laughter. Clary frowned at him. "It's not funny Jace."

Jace wiped the corners of his eyes. "That was so funny, I'm crying." Clary glared at him and Jace let out a couple more chuckles.

 _Clary was spared responding to this by Simon's return. The blond girl sat back hastily as he set the cups on the tale and threw himself down next to Clary. "I hate it when they run out of mugs. Those things are hot." He blew on his fingers and scowled. Clary tried to hide a smile as she watched him. Normally she never thought about whether Simon was good – looking or not. He had pretty dark eyes, she supposed, and he'd filled out well over the past year or so. With the right haircut-_

" _You're staring at me," Simon said. "Why are you staring at me? Have I got something on my face?"_

 _I should tell him, she thought, tough some part of her was strangely reluctant. I'd be a bad friend if I didn't. "Don't look now, but that blond girl over there thinks you're cute," she whispered._

 _Simon's eyes flicked sideways to stare at the girl, who was industriously studying an issue of Shonen Jump. "The girl in the orange top?" Clary nodded. Simon looked dubious. "What makes you think so?"_

 _Tell him. Go on, tell him. Clary opened her mouth to reply, and was interrupted by a burst of feedback. She winced and covered her ears as Eric, onstage, wrestled with his microphone._

" _Sorry about that, guys!" he yelled. "All right. I'm Eric, and this is my homeboy Matt on the drums. My first poem is called 'Untitled.'" He screwed up his face as if in pain, and wailed into the mike. "Come, my faux-_

"Oh god!" Clary cried, flinging her hands up, as if to stop some imaginary onslaught. "Don't read his poetry! I had to suffer threw it once, and that was more than enough!"

Jace chuckled, but none the less, skipped the poetry (or the murder of poetry).

 _Simon slid down in his seat. "Please don't tell anyone I know him"_

 _Clary giggled. "Who uses the word 'loins'?"_

" _Eric," Simon said grimly, "All his poems have loins in them."_

" _Turgid is my torment!" Eric wailed. "Agony swells within!"_

" _You bet it does," Clary said_.

"Never have I said truer words." Clary joked. She thought back on how god awful the experience was. She let lose a shudder. Never again will she go to one of Eric's poetry readings.

 _She slid down in the seat next to Simon. "Anyway, about that girl who thinks you're cute-"_

" _Never mind that for a second," Simon said. Clary blinked at him in surprise. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."_

" _Furious Mole is not a good name for a band," Clary said immediately._

" _not that," Simon said. 'It's about what we were talking about before. About me not having a girlfriend."_

" _Oh." Clary lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Oh, I don't know. Ask Jaida Jones out," she suggested, naming on of the few girls at St. Xavier's she actually liked. "She's nice, and she likes you."_

" _I don't want to ask Jaida Jones out."_

" _Why not?" Clary found herself seized with a sudden, unspecific resentment. "You don't like smart girls? Still seeking a rockin' bod?"_

' _Neither," said Simon, who seemed agitated. "I don't want to ask her out because it wouldn't really be fair to her if I did…"_

 _He trailed off. Clary leaned forward. From the corner of her eye she could see the blond girl leaning forward too, plainly eavesdropping. "Why not?"_

" _Because I like someone else," Simon said._

"I still can't believe that you were so clueless. Everyone could see that he liked you."

"Shut up." Clary mumbled, her cheeks burning. It was obvious now that she knew, but back then it wasn't. She really wasn't good at noticing things."

" _Okay." Simon looked faintly greenish, the way he had once when he's broken his ankle playing soccer in the park and had had to lip home on it. She wondered what on earth about liking someone could possibly have him wound up to such a pitch of anxiety. "You're not gay, are you?"_

 _Simon's greenish color deepened. "If I were, I would dress better."_

Jace snorted. "Doubtful." Clary elbowed him.

" _So, who is it, them?" Clary asked. She was about to add that if he were in love with Sheila Barbarino, Eric would kick his ass, when she heard someone cough loudly behind her. It was a derisive sort of cough, the kind of noise someone might make who was trying not to laugh out loud._

 _She turned around._

 _Sitting on a faded green sofa a few feet away from her was Jace._

"And the star of the show makes an appearance!"

"… The book is about me, Jace."

 _He was wearing the same dark clothes he's had on the night before in the club._

"Well not the EXACT clothes but, yes, similar ones."

"Shut up and read Jace."

"No! I find this first impression of me you have in need of commenting."

"It's not the first one, it's the second one."

"Details, Details."

 _His arms were bare and covered with faint white lines like old scars._

"Very good! They are old scars!"

"Jace if you don't stop commenting every few seconds, I will steal the book from you and finish the chapter by myself."

Jace grumbled, but thankfully shut up.

 _His wrist bore wide metal cuffs; she could see the bone handle of a knife protruding from the left one. He was looking right at her, the side of his narrow mouth quirked in amusement. Worse than the feeling of being laughed at was Clary absolute conviction that he hadn't been sitting there five minutes ago._

" _What is it?" Simon had followed her gaze, but it was obvious from the blank expression on his face that he couldn't see Jace._

 _But I see you. She stared at Jace as she thought it, and he raised his left hand to wave at her. He got to his feet and began walking, unhurriedly, toward the door. Clary's lips parted in surprise, He was leaving, just like that._

 _She felt Simon's hand on her arm. He was saying her name, asking her if something was wrong. She barely heard him. "I'll be right back," She heard herself say, as she sprang off the couch, almost forgetting to set her coffee cup down. She raced toward the door, leaving Simon staring after her._

"You know what, I never actually came back." Clary noted. She wondered if that made her a bad friend. She shrugged her shoulders. She will apologize later.

"Naughty, naughty." Jace tisked, shaking his finger at her. Clary swatted at it and gave him a mock glare. Jace chuckled.

 _Clary burst through the doors, terrified that Jae would have vanished into the alley shadows like a ghost. But he was there, slouched against the wall. He had just tanked something out of his picket and was punching buttons on it. He looked up in surprise as the door of the coffee shop fell shut behind her._

 _In the rapidly falling twilight, his hair looked coppery gold. "Your friend's poetry is terrible," he said._

"Truer words have yet to be said." Jace said with a mock solemn face. Clary giggled but agreed.

 _Clary blinked, caught momentarily off guard. "What?"_

" _I said his poetry was terrible. It sounds like he ate a dictionary and started vomiting up words at random._

" _I don't care about Eric's poetry." Clary was furious. "I want to know why you're following me."_

" _Who said I was following you?"_

"You know, I knew that you were following me, right?" Clary stated off – handily.

Jace snorted. "Don't act all high and mighty. I was only following you because I had to. Hodge asked me too."

"Don't act like you didn't want to."

"… So maybe I did, what's it to you?"

" _Nice try. And you were eavesdropping, too. Do you want to tell me what this is about, or should I just call the police?"_

" _And tell them what?" Jace said witheringly. "That invisible people are bothering you? Trust me, little girl., the police aren't going to arrest someone they can't see."_

" _I told you before, my name is not little girl," She said through her teeth. "It's Clary."_

"You really don't like to be called little, do you?"

"NO."

"I mean it's just pointing out facts."

"IM NOT THAT SHORT!"

" _I know," he said. 'Pretty name. Like the herb, clary sage. In the old days people thought eating the seed would let you see the Fair Folk. Did you know that?"_

"Oh look!" Clary said with sarcasm. "The first nice thing you said to me!"

"I said nice things to you before that!" Jace defended.

Clary snorted. "No you didn't Jace. You were a class A jackass to me, and you know it."

Jace thought back on it. Sadly, it was true. Even sadder, he didn't have an excuse for it. "Well then, consider this my most sincere apology."

Clary smiled. "Graciously accepted."

" _I have no idea what you're talking about."_

" _You don't know much, do you?" he said. There was a lazy contempt in his gold eyes. "You seem to be a mundane like any other mundane, yet you can see me. It's a conundrum."_

" _What's a mundane?"_

" _Someone of the human world. Someone like you."_

" _But you're human," Clary said._

" _I am," he said. "But I'm not like you." There was not defensiveness in his tone. He sounded like he didn't care if she believed him or not._

" _You think you're better. That's why you were laughing at us."_

" _I was laughing at you because declarations of love amuse me, especially when unrequited," he said. "And because your Simon is one of the most mundane mundanes I've ever encountered. And because Hodge thought you might be dangerous, but if you are, you certainly don't know it."_

"Ha! I proved you wrong!" Clary said smugly.

Jace looked sideways at her with a smile. "Damn right you did." A thoughtful look crossed his face. "Is it weird that I find that hot?"

Clary snorted.

" _I'm dangerous?" Clary echoed in astonishment. "I saw you kill someone last night. I saw you drive a knife yup under his ribs and-"_ _ **and I saw him slash at you with fingers like razor blades. I saw you cut and bleeding, and now you look as if nothing ever touched you.**_

"Can't touch this nana nana!" Jace started singing.

Clary barked out a laugh and elbowed Jace. "Really?"

A smirk curled up Jace's lips. "Well obviously, _you_ touch me… in a very different way than a Demon…" He wiggled his eyebrows.

Clary blushed, but smiled. "If a demon was touching you the way that I do, I think that maybe you need to be telling me something."

Jace put on a mocking serious face. "Clary, I hate to tell you this but I've been in love with a demon for a very long time."

"I knew there was something more going on between you and Sebastian in that apartment." Clary quipped.

Jace sputtered. "Wh – What?! There was nothing going on between the two of us! I was under his control! All my actions weren't my own! It was all him! It was a friendship!"

"Me thinks that you doth protest too much." Clary smiled.

Jace grumbled, looked down at the book and said some colorful words. Clary laughed at his discomfort.

" _I may be a killer," Jace said, "But I know what I am. Can you say the same?"_

"I have never understood the reason why you talked in riddles so much when first meeting me. Like what the fuck? Why?" Clary said, throwing her hands in the air.

"I had to keep up the aura of mystique to amaze you." Jace said matter of factly.

"Yeah, whatever." Clary said giving Jace a side look that screamed 'what is wrong with you?'

" _I'm an ordinary human being, just like you said. Who's Hodge?"_

" _My tutor -"_

"And traitor." Jace added darkly. That still stung, and probably will for a while yet.

"– _And I would be so quick to brand myself as ordinary, if I were you." He leaned forward. "Let me see you right hand."_

" _My right hand?" Clary echoed. He nodded. "If I show you my hand, will you leave me alone?"_

" _Certainly." Hi voice was edged with amusement._

 _She held out her right hand grudgingly. It looked pale in the half – light spilling from the windows, the knuckles dotted with a light dusting of freckles. Somehow she felt as exposed as if she were pulling up her shirt and showing him her naked chest._

"You know, you could have done that too and I wouldn't have complained a single little bit." Jace said with a smirk.

Clary blushed and looked away. "Just read."

 _He took her hand in his and turned it over. "Nothing." He sounded almost disappointed. "You're not left – handed, are you?"_

" _No. Why?"_

 _He released her hand with a shrug. "Most Shadowhunter children get Marked with the Voyance rune on their right hands – or left, if they're left – handed like I am – when they're still young. It's a permanent rune that helps us see the magic world." He showed her the back of his left hand; it looked perfectly normal to her._

" _I don't see anything," she said._

" _Let your mind relax," he suggested. "Wait for it to come to you. Like waiting for something to rise to the surface of water."_

" _You're crazy." But she relaxed, gazing at his hand, seeing the tiny lines across the knuckles, the long joints of the fingers –_

"That's a… That's a pretty deep examination of my fingers there, Clary." Jace joked.

"Shut up." Clary muttered.

 _It jumped out at her suddenly, flashing like a_ _ **DONT WALK**_ _sign. A black design like an eye across the back of his hand. She blinked, and it vanished. "A tattoo?"_

 _He smiled smugly and lowered his hand. 'I thought you could do it. And it's not a tattoo – it's a mark. They're runes, burned into our skin. Different Marks do different things. Some are permanent but the majority vanish when they've been used."_

" _That's why your arms aren't all inked up today?_

"Again with the over staring. You just can't keep your eyes of me, can you?" Jace cracked and received a pinch in the side for it.

 _She asked. "Even when I concentrate?"_

" _That's exactly why." He sounded pleased with himself. "At first I thought you might have the Sight. There are humans who do. But no one who had the sight would react the way you did. They'd be used to seeing unusual thigs. There's got to be another reason." He glanced up at the sky. "It's nearly full dark. We should go."_

 _We? I thought you were going to leave me alone."_

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!" Clary sang. "If you wanted me to follow you home all you had to do was ask!" Clary mocked.

Jace stuck his tongue out at her. "I had to say that to get you to stay and not run away from me."

" _I lied," Jace said without a shred of embarrassment. "Hodge said I have to bring you to the Institute with me. He wants to talk to you."_

" _Why would he want to talk to me?"_

" _Because you know about us now," Jace said. "And we still don't know why you can see us."_

" _About us?" she echoed. "You mean, people like you. People who believe in demons."_

" _People who kill them," said Jace. "We're called Shadowhunters. At least, that's what we call ourselves. The Downworlders have less complimentary names for us."_

" _Downworlders?"_

" _The Night Children. Warlocks. The fey. The magical folks of this world."_

"You realize that the only reason that I didn't run away screaming from you is because I was so confused that I physically couldn't, right?" Clary said.

"I always knew that my talking could stop someone in their tracks." Jace replied.

 _Clary shook her head. "Don't stop there. I suppose there are also, what, vampires and werewolves and zombies?"_

" _Of course there are," Jace informed her. "They're based in fact, even if mundanes think they're myth. Shadowhunters have a saying: All the stories are true. Although," he added, "To be fair, you mostly find zombies farther south, where the voudun priests are."_

"For someone who speaks fluent sarcasm, you sure don't catch it very well…" Clary commented.

"Oh I caught it all right. I just continued because it was confusing the hell out of you and the face you were making was the cutest."

" _What about mummies? Do they only hang around Egypt?"_

" _Don't be ridiculous. No one believes in mummies."_

" _They don't?" "Of course not," Jace said. "Look Hodge will explain all this to you when you see him."_

 _Clary crossed her arms over her chest. "What if I don't wasn't to see him?"_

" _That's your problem. You can come either willingly or unwillingly."_

 _Clary couldn't believe her ears. "Are you threatening to kidnap me?"_

" _If you want to look at it that way," Jace said, "yes."_

"Were you really going to kidnap me if I didn't come with you?"

"… I chose not to answer that."

"Really Jace?! You were going to kidnap someone you didn't even know? For not wanting to follow that strange man home?"

"OH you wanted to be kidnaped by me, just admit it."

" _I BARELEY KNEW YOU!"_

"Come on! I would have been the hottest guy to kidnap you!"

"… I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"You talked so therefore you responded!"

"…"

 _Clary opened her mouth to protest angrily, but was interrupted by a strident bussing noise. Her phone was ringing again._

" _Go ahead and answer that if you like," Jace said generously._

"Oh Gee! Thanks for letting me answer my own phone!" The sarcasm was dripping from Clary's words.

"you welcome!" Jace said, sounding way to happy.

 _The phone stopped ringing, then started up again, loud and insistent. Clary frowned – her mom must really be freaking out. She half – turned away from Jace and began digging in her bag. By the time she unearthed the phone, it was on its third set of rings. She raised it to her ear. "Mom?"_

" _Oh, Clary. Oh, thank God." A sharp prickle of alarm ran up clary's spine. Her mother sounded panicked. "Listen to me -"_

" _It's all right, Mom. I'm fine. I'm on my way home-"_

" _NO!" Terror scraped Jocelyn's voice raw. "Don't come home! Do you understand me, Clary? Don't you dare come home. Go to Simon's. Go straight to Simons house and stay there until I can-"_

 _A noise in the background interrupted her: The sound of something falling, shattering, something heavy striking the floor –_

Jace felt Clary stiffen up next to him while he read the phone call. He tightened his arm around her and sped through the last little bit of it. He didn't want to make her relive the fear.

" _MOM!" Clary shouted into the phone. "Mom, are you all right?"_

 _A loud buzzing noise came from the phone. Clary's mother's voice cutting through the static: "just promise me you won't come home. Go to Simon's and call Luke – tell him that he's found me-" her words were drowned out by a heavy crash like splintering wood._

" _Who's found you? Mom. Did you call the police? Did you-"_

 _Her frantic question was cut off by a noise Clary would never forget – a harsh, slithering noise, followed by a thump. Clary heard her mother draw in a sharp breath before speaking, her voice eerily calm: "I love you, Clary."_

 _The phone went dead._

Jace stopped reading for a bit. He looked down at Clary and noticed that she seemed a little tense. More than likely knowing what was about to come up and didn't was to relive it. But unfortunately, they needed to finish the books. All of them. "Do you need to take a break for a bit?"

Clary shook her head. "No, I'm fine. But thank you."

" _Mom!" Clary shrieked into the phone. "Mom, are you there?" Call ended, the screen said but why would her mother have hung up like that?_

" _Clary," Jace said. It was the first time she's ever heard him say her name. "What's going on?"_

 _Clary ignored him. Feverishly she hit the button that dialed her home number. There was no answer except a double tone busy signal._

 _Clary's hands had begun to shake uncontrollably. When she tried to redial, the phone slipped out of her shaking grasp and hit the pavement hard. She dropped to her knees to retrieve it, but it was dead, a long crack visible across the front._

"I have never had the best luck with technology." Clary said with a sad smile.

Jace chuckled. "Me either."

" _Dammit!" Almost in tears, she threw the phone down._

" _Stop that." Jace hauled her to her feet, his hand gripping her wrist. "Has something happened?"_

' _Give me your phone," Clary said, grabbing the black metal oblong out of his shirt pocket. "I have to-"_

" _It's not a phone," Jace said, making no move to get it back. "It's a Sensor. You won't be able to use it."_

"Wrong again!" Clary joked, trying to cheer up. It was working a little bit.

" _But I need to call the police!"_

" _Tell me what happened first." She tried to yank her wrist back, but his grip was incredible strong._

" _I can help you."_

 _Rage flooded through Clary, a hot tide through her veins. Without even thinking about it, she struck out at his face, her nails raking his cheek._

"Thanks for that, by the way." Jace said sarcasticly.

"I was trying to get you to let go of me. It seemed to be the only thing to work."

 _He jerked back in surprise. Tearing her self free, Clary ran toward the lights of Seventh Avenue._

 _When she reached the street, she spun around, half – expecting to see jace at her heels, But the alley was emptu. For a moment she stared unvertainly into the shadows. Nothing moved inside them. She spun on her heel and ran for home._

"That's the end of the chapter." Jace said softly. "Do you want to take a break of do you want to continue?"

Clary thought about it for a second. "Let's just get this done and over with." She was not looking forward to reliving when she came back to that apartment. It still sometimes haunted her. Clary has worse night mares (usually involving her brother and the endarkened) but for some reason that one still stuck with her. Maybe it was the empty feeling she got when she realized that her mother was gone, and possibly hurt. Or it was the demon that hunted her and tried to eat her. Or maybe it was the fact that she barely missed being taken by Valentine. She was minutes away, if not seconds. If valentine got her that early on… She shuddered, thinking on much the future would have been screwed.

Jace noticed a dark look passing over her face. "Do want me to read the next chapter too?" Clary nodded. She didn't think she would be able to read it without breaking down.

 **A.N.: I know this chapter is shorter than usual, but I'm hoping that it is still just as good. I'll get the next Chapter to you guys as soon as I can. I Promise!**


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